


Just Across the Hall

by pjobroadwayslut14



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bad Flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Felicity is Felicity, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Miscommunication, Monty is a thot, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Percy is also a thot, Seizures, there are no cishets in this lol, they are teachers !!, we hate Richard Peele
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 76,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjobroadwayslut14/pseuds/pjobroadwayslut14
Summary: "  “Alright, everyone push in your chairs and line up at the door!” I shout, because apparently they have taken this as the best opportunity to begin a conversation. They line up at the door and I open it to walk out, when I see the face of the teacher from across the hall staring back at me. Mr. Newton, also known as the bane of my entire existence. "
Relationships: Felicity Montague & Henry "Monty" Montague, Henry "Monty" Montague & Percy Newton, Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Comments: 44
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all !! i am super proud of this, so please leave a comment and kudos !! 
> 
> the rating is purely for montys mouth .
> 
> enjoy !!

“So after a statement what do you put?” I ask, expecting a chorus of second graders to yell the name of a punctuation mark at me, when I am rudely interrupted by the principal’s voice over the loudspeaker. 

“Attention everybody! At this time, classrooms 12-16 can start heading down to the auditorium for our assembly.”

“Mr. Monty, this one is about bullying, right?” one of my students asks.

“Yeah, this one is,” I say

My kids look at me expectedly and I resist a groan at my boss’s extremely monotone voice. “Alright, everyone push in your chairs and line up at the door!” I shout, because apparently they have taken this as the best opportunity to begin a conversation. They line up at the door and I open it to walk out, when I see the face of the teacher from across the hall staring back at me. Mr. Newton, also known as the bane of my entire existence. 

He is the music teacher for Roosevelt Elementary. We applied at around the same time because there were miraculously two jobs open at the school simultaneously. I never exactly had a passion for english, but I was broke and cut off from my family, and when you’re in that position, you take what you can get. I went to college for education and business. Business because my father was hoping to have someone to one day take over the family corporation, and education for a plan to fall back on just in case. Good idea, past Monty. I assumed, with my charm and good looks, Percy and I would strike up an easy friendship, seeing that we were the same age and got hired at the same time. The fact that our classrooms were directly across from each other first seemed like a weird coincidence, but I know now that it was a curse for everything bad I’ve ever done in my entire life.

In our first week of work, we were placed next to each other during every meeting because we were the two newbies and everyone else already had spots. The moment we introduced ourselves, I knew nothing would ever work between us. He introduced himself using his full goddamn name, Percival Newton, and told everyone about his passion for music extensively and sucked up to our boss, telling him how grateful he was for this job. I pushed down an eye roll that would rival Felicity’s once he finished his spiel. I, on the other hand, introduced myself using only the name I would like to be called, and sat down. He was far too excited to be working at an elementary school teaching music to second graders, especially for seven on a Monday morning in August. This makes it sound like I hate my job, which I absolutely do not. I love each of my kids as if they were my own, and teaching really isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The trouble is grading their assignments, which is so boring I have seriously considered quitting to sell my body to the night in order to get out of it. The other main trouble is the coworkers.

Percy locks eyes with me for a split second, before straightening and beckoning his class out of the classroom. The lines are pin straight, and everyone is in alphabetical order, not talking. I quietly groan at this obnoxiousness of this whole show he is putting on, then push my kids into the hallway. I always allow my kids to talk in the halls. Seriously, people care far too much. If the seven year olds want to talk about Star Wars in the hallway, let the damn seven years talk about Star Wars in the hallways. My line is more like a gaggle, and we take up half the hallway, but then again so does everyone else’s. Everyone else’s except Percy’s, of course. I make my way up to the front of the line so I am walking directly beside him.

“Good morning, Mr. Newton. Oh wait, are you not allowed to talk in the halls either? Or is that just your class?” I mock. He looks down at me with an extremely annoyed expression before looking back forward, the annoyance still very prevalent in his face. Mission accomplished.

“I’m not in second grade, Mr. Montague, nor am I seven years old. So, no, I do what I want. This school has a very well put and easy to read teaching manual. You might actually be able to understand it. If you can see straight, that is,” he jabs, which makes my ears hot with embarrassment and anger. Not only has he just accused me of not reading the teaching manual (I haven’t) but he also had to bring attention to the fact that I like to have a good time on the weekends. By “have a good time”, I mean go to a bar, get absolutely hammered, and call my little sister to come pick me up. You may be wondering how I haven’t gotten fired for this yet, and my saving grace is that I have seen Principal Peele’s face around said bars too many times to count. If he were to fire me, it would be entirely hypocritical. Percy isn’t special for knowing about my habits either. Every teacher, custodian, and lunch lady at this school knows exactly what I get up to in my free time. Note: free time, thank you very much. Free time that never affects my ability to do my job, no matter what my peers seem to think.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I purr, to which he scowls. This particular tone of voice always seems to get on his nerves. “Also, my name is not Mr. Montague, and you know it,” I grumble.

“Oh, I sincerely apologize, Henry,” he mocks, which makes me want to kick him significantly hard in a place I will not name for the sake of preserving my reputation of class. Everyone here, with one notable exception, calls me “Mr. Monty”, as I have told them to do. Most people know how to follow rules, and the parties that don’t can kindly go fuck himself. 

I walk around the front of my line to lead them into the giant auditorium. This school has a large population, because of how large our town is. It’s a suburban town just outside of Boston. We make our way down the steps to our priorly assigned row. They file into their seats, picking them meticulously, hoping to sit next to their friends or crushes. That’s another great thing about teaching: the kids think we are the dumbest creatures on earth, and that we can’t tell who has a crush on who. We can. We always can. Once everyone is seated and not complaining about their spot, I take mine. I notice the empty chair to my directly to my left, which is a small blessing. I strike up a conversation with the kid next to me, Molly, about what her plans for the weekend are. She is very enthusiastic about her dance class at nine in the morning tomorrow, and when she asks me what I am doing tomorrow, I lie and tell her I am having breakfast with my sister. I am having dinner with her tonight, and the plans past that point are nothing appropriate for a second grader. Once the conversation dies, I turn forward toward the stage to wait for the speaker to enter, and when I do, I see who is sitting in the once empty spot beside me. I throw my head back and hit it against the back of the chair, which makes him snicker. What kind of backwards luck do I have? I make a mental note to call Jeanne later and ask her to bring over some sage and cleanse my house, for I have to have been hexed.

“That excited to see me, huh?” he chuckles. I channel my inner Feli and glare at him, which only makes him laugh harder. Shit.

“That’s alright Henry, you aren’t exactly a ray of sunshine either,” he says. I’m not sure what he means by this. I am sunshine incarnate, as anyone could easily tell. I hold back a remark and turn forward, commanding myself to remember that I am surrounded on all sides by many, very young and impressionable ears. “Ah, finally some peace and quiet from you,” he teases, and I lose it. 

“I swear to God Percy, shut up right now, or I’ll make you,” I growl. His entire face goes red and his eyes widen as he looks around to see if any of the kids noticed. When he realizes they didn’t, he clears his throat and turns his attention to the stage, looking very uncomfortable as the lights go down. Fucking finally.

I sit there half listening to the speaker drone on about bullying for about half an hour before I start twitching from boredom. I go to drop my arm to my left arm rest, when I notice Percy has his arm resting there. I shove it off, and place my elbow there, plopping my head onto my hand. He’s shocked by my rudeness for about 2 seconds, before he retaliates and shoves my arm away, reclaiming his spot. My arm falls down the side of the auditorium chair, and I almost hit my head on his arm. I straighten and look at him angrily. He keeps his eyes on the speaker, pretending not to notice. I lean into his ear. 

“Everyone gets the rest to the left of their seat. Or did they not tell you that in your little manual?” I sneer. I am really getting tired of his bullshit today. He turns his head towards me to reply, and he is- wow, he is VERY close. Our noses are about an inch apart. I never noticed the amount of little freckles underneath his eyes. There are a lot. When he realizes how close we are he pulls away and averts his eyes. I’m not sure why I didn’t pull away first, seeing that I comprehended how close we were before he did. I am far too tired today. 

Around 20 minutes later- this assembly is scheduled to be around an hour and a half, lord help us all- I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Felicity. Are you fine with me making spaghetti for later?, it reads. On a normal day, I would be teaching right now, but that never stops her from texting me the moment she thinks of something I need to know. I don’t really care much, because my phone is always off and in my bag while I teach anyway. I learned my lesson quickly 2 years ago, on my second week of work here, when my Nicki Minaj ringtone for Jeanne started playing on full volume while I taught comma usage. I type out my reply with practiced accuracy. yeah sure idc, I reply. I’m mindlessly watching the chat bubbles when Percy hits me on the arm. 

“Put your phone away,” he whispers. I look up at him expecting a teasing look in his eyes that I could easily rebute, but nope, he is one-hundred percent serious. I laugh a little at how stupid he looks. I open Felicity’s reply, look down at the screen, then I look straight into Percy’s eyes, and type my reply. He shakes his head like he can’t even imagine how roguish I’m being. 

“You’re absolutely incorrigible. I can’t even comprehend it,” he says, half to himself. I look back at him.

“I’m incorrigible?” I ask aggravatedly. 

“Yes. Completely and utterly-” he starts, but is cut off by a hand tapping us on our shoulders. We both look back at the same time to see what the trouble is. Miss. Robles, one of the kindergarten teachers, is glaring at us both with the passion of a star collapsing into itself. 

“Are you two going to stop bickering or am I going to have to get Principal Peele?” she whispers furiously, her face all scrunched up, which kind of makes her look like the Wicked Witch of the West. 

Percy melts and immediately starts apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, but my peer here was texting and setting a terrible example for the kids,” he says, and of-fucking-course he blames this all on me.

“Oh, you mean the kids who don’t even have phones?” I ask.

“It’s about setting a good example! it doesn’t matter if-”

“Enough! Both of you!”

Percy and I both look back at her.

“Sorry,” I say, in a futile attempt to upstage Percy as Mr. Morals, then we turn our attention forward to listen to the speaker and ignore each other for the rest of the assembly. Well, I turn back towards the speaker, and Percy’s eyes bore into the side of my head for the remaining 15 minutes.

Once the lights come back up, the noise level in the room goes from zero to one hundred in no time flat. I stand up and shout over the kids that it is time to go to lunch, which grabs their attention easily. They file back into their line and stand on the ramp beside the aud seats. I make my way over there and escape the auditorium as swiftly as possible. I bring them to the lunch room and say goodbye, before making my way to my classroom. I flop into my chair, which spins it over to my desk. I drop my head to the table and groan dramatically. I don’t often stay up late, but last night I just could not seem to fall asleep. I make a mental note to take a well deserved nap before heading to Feli’s for dinner. I lift my head slightly and eye my lunch, leftover mac and cheese. I flop back onto my folded arms at the realization that in order to eat it, I have to bring it to the break room. I reluctantly stumble over to the damned mac and cheese, snatch it up, and walk like the Grinch out of my classroom. The halls are blessedly empty, as everyone in this section of the school is on their lunch right now, so I don’t have to make friendly conversation with any of the other teachers. When I walk into the break room, it takes me a few seconds to realize that I have company. My tunnel vision is zeroed in on the microwave, so I beeline to it, throw my tupperware in, and sit on the counter to wait. I have been told many times not to sit on the counter in here, but I really don't see the harm. Nobody is actually cooking here anyway. When I open my eyes, I resist the temptation to get up and leave without even taking my food. Percy is looking at me like he doesn’t know why I am so irritable today. Well, he doesn’t, but I am tired and hungry and all logic left me hours ago. 

He finishes chewing, wipes the corner of this mouth, and asks, “Are you alright?” and, god damn, if he doesn’t drop the act, I’m going to drop him. 

“Yes, I am completely fine. I got 3 hours of sleep last night, haven’t eaten all day, and I barely have time to sleep after school. I am doing great.” I say, all in one breath, and then gasp in more air. I pop open the microwave and take my food out, giving it a very aggressive mix.

“Oh,” he says, then looks down at his food. He seems to be eating some sort of dessert.

“Oh? Just, oh?” I say, and then take a minute to compose myself, pinching the bridge of my nose. Get it together. “What is that?” I ask, desperate to change the subject away from me. Why am I even still talking to him?

“It’s a greek pastry,” Percy looks down at it and lifts a corner of it with his fork, and then lets it drop back to the plate.

I flap my hand for him to continue, “Does it have a name?” I prompt.

“Galaktoboureko. It’s like, orange, and it has like, filo and-” he says, his face is all scrunched up like he is very deep in thought. “My God, just take some,” he finishes, exasperated. I look at him strangely, but give in because it’s a dessert and this reheated pasta just isn’t cutting it right now. He slices a piece off the end and sets it on a napkin, then hands it to me. My hand slides under his when I take it and he seems to be staring at our touching hands with a dazed look. He snaps himself out of it and gazes up at me when I take the first bite.

The moment it touches “Holy shit, did you make this?!” I exclaim, because goddamn, I think this is the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. He laughs a little at my childlike expression, which doesn’t make me as angry as it should. Perhaps it’s the choir of angels singing because of this damn pastry that drowns out what should be annoyance.

“No, no, I don’t make them. I get them from my friend Scipio. He owns a bakery on Main Street,” he tells me. 

I can’t even respond, instead opting to shove the last of it into my mouth. I throw my head back and groan because of how good it is. 

“Would you like the name of the shop?”

“Yes please,” I tell him, because now that I have been exposed to the sheer power of whatever these things are called, there is no going back.

“It’s called Eleftheria and Co. On Main,” he says. I’m not sure why he is actually helping me, but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t welcomed. “If I knew it was this easy to shut you up, I would have done it years ago,” he says, and yup, there it is. 

I look up at the clock and see that it is about time for me to go pick up my class from the cafeteria. The halls are much more vibrant when I walk out of the teacher’s lounge. Most of the teacher’s have already gotten their kids and are walking them back to class. I come up to stand at the doorway and wait for them to come meet me. When they do, I ask how their meal was, and listen to their little responses. We get back to the classroom and as they take their seats, I pull up the presentation from earlier to finish up before they leave.

One of the girls raises her hand to answer a question. I call on her and she asks “Why were you and Mr. Newton fighting?” I feel myself go red to my toes as I grasp at an answer. “He wasn’t being respectful during the assembly, so I helped him,” There. That should satisfy-

“But I saw you start it! And Mr. Newton isn’t mean,” one of my boys says. Damn it to hell. Might as well put away the lesson plan because I doubt I will be able to regain their attention.

“Sometimes, people have bad days where they don’t act like they normally do. Mr. Newton was just in a bad mood.”

“I’ll ask him when we go to music on Monday!” someone else says, and then writes it down in their planner so they remember. These kids are way too damn smart. 

“Alright, alright, let’s get back to our work,” I say, hoping my voice isn’t shaking as bad as I think it is.

Two hours later, the bell rings and they run to the cubbies to grab their things and leave for the weekend. On the way out, I do each of their specific hand shakes with them and tell them to stay safe in their time off. Once everyone is gone I settle down in my chair and pull out my phone.

annoying little monster: You are coming over at 6 right?

You: yeah that was the plan

annoying little monster: Okay, just making sure.

We normally have dinner together once a week, so I don’t know why she is so worried about it this time. She is definitely not helping this new headache I am nursing. I shake the thoughts out of my head and gather my things off my desk. After turning everything off in the room, I walk out and close the door behind me. When I am about halfway down the hallway, I hear a voice from behind me. 

“Stay safe this weekend Mr. Montague!” 

I register who it is almost immediately, turn around and see Percy waving at me from the door to his room with his keys in his hand. I roll my eyes and check the hall for any other teachers or students and then flip him off. He makes a dramatic scandalized gesture, holding his hand to his heart and gasping. He knocks his hand twice against the door frame and swings back inside with a smile. I roll my eyes for the fifth time today and walk out the front door of the school.

My car is freezing cold from the fall chill when I step inside. I turn up the heating to max and plug in the aux. I click Feli’s contact on the tiny dashboard screen and call her as I exit the lot.

“Why are you calling me.”

“Well hello to you too, dearest sister.” I say, though I know she is probably cooking still and I know damn well what happens whenever she’s interrupted.

“Monty, I am incredibly busy, and you’re driving.”

“Every single time I call you in the car, you seem to forget that I have bluetooth. I’m being safe.”

“Why are you calling me.”

“Goddamn, I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way. Do you need anything?” I ask, because I am incredibly benevolent, and I like making her feel bad for being mean.

“I think I’m good, thank you.”

“Ok, see you in a minute.” The school is actually around half an hour away from her flat, but this isn’t new information for either of us.

“Goodbye.”

I hang up the call on my screen, opting to shuffle my playlist instead of driving in silence. Some pop song I don’t remember adding comes on, and I hum along absentmindedly.

I arrive at Feli’s house a little earlier than I expected, so when I knock on her door, she opens it wearing her apron and a messy bun. She clearly planned to have a bit more time before I arrived, to get ready. She doesn’t care about her appearance that much, but at least she puts on a clean shirt and brushes her hair when I come over. She opens it wider so I can step inside, and I saunter past her into the apartment. It’s bigger than mine and in a better neighborhood, because it is being paid for by our father. She was never the favorite child, but at least she wasn’t messing around with everyone in the social circle and getting plastered once a week. 

“Wow, this place has really gone to the dumps!” I tease, fists on my hips. I am joking obviously, seeing that she keeps this place in mint condition all the time. The only things that are ever messy are cluttered desk tops with paperwork and textbooks. 

“Thanks Monty. Maybe next time we can do this at your place!” she sneers sarcastically, because she knows exactly how much of a disaster my home is. I haven’t brought someone back there, nor have I woke up tangled in some stranger’s sheets, in months. I may still be a rake, but at least less now. I sit down at her kitchen table and pull out my phone. Mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, I receive a text from Richard. Are you free later? It reads, and Felicity must pick up on the uncomfortable energy because she looks over at me and raises her eyebrow. I wave her off and once she turns around, I look back to my phone. why? what exactly do you have in mind? I reply. Listen, I don’t like what I’m doing either, but I’m desperate and he is willing. I owe him my job, for fuck’s sake. You know what. Come over at 9. I shut off the phone and sigh dramatically.

“What is it now?” she asks, tapping the sauce-covered spoon on the side of the pot, then dropping it in the bowl beside the stove.

“Nothing I’d like to discuss with my little sister.” I say, hoping that will be enough to get her off my ass for now.

“Monty, please don’t tell me this is about Richard,.” she warns, and I mentally beat myself for saying anything at all. One of the many inherited Montague traits, little to no shame or sense of boundaries.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“My God Monty! He’s your boss, you can’t keep doing this!” she exclaims, spooning the pasta into two bowls.

She walks over and places one of the bowls in front of me. “Listen, I never said I was gonna go!” She’s seemingly not impressed, because she looks into my eyes and then rolls her own frustratedly. She sits down and we begin eating. We get about 10 minutes of friendly conversation in before my own stupidity gets in the way.

“I had an assembly today.”

She shakes her head. “Why are you telling me this?”

I speak next without thinking. “Because Percy was being an absolute tool the entire time.”

Her eyes roll to the back of her skull. “For God’s sake, why are you so obsessed with him?”

“I’m not obsessed! I’m just… concerned for… the rules. He’s not following the rules.”

“What rules exactly?” she says, voice laced with annoyance.

“I don’t know, the school ones? He always has his lines as straight as possible, and he’s a suckup-”

“That doesn’t seem like breaking the rules to me, Monty. Just ignore him,” she says, and I can tell she is desperately trying to end this conversation. 

Too bad I don’t care.

“Ignore him?! How? He’s so-”

“So, what Monty? What is it that he has so much of?”

“He’s so- perfect! In a bad way! He’s always doing everything exactly how it should be, and it is extremely annoying.” 

She runs a hand through her hair. “How about you write this down in your little diary instead of telling it all to me!”

“Joke’s on you, I don’t even have a diary.”

“You’re a child.” she says. 

I laugh and shovel some food into my mouth.

“Listen, Monty, I actually have something I need to tell you.” That line is exactly what I was afraid of earlier. It explains why she was so anxious for today.

“What is it? You’re pregnant?” I say, trying to lighten the suddenly very stiff mood.

Her face scrunches. “God, no, I’m being serious.”

“Well go on then.”

“You know how I applied to that medical school?”

“That medical school? As in Harvard-fucking-University?” She has reached the point where she can’t even recognize her own genius. 

“Yes. Well, I got in.”

A grin splits out across my entire face. “Felicity, that’s wonderful!”

She blushes a little. She gets embarrassed whenever someone acknowledges how smart she is. “Yeah, well. Thanks.”

“Can I hug you?”

She grins. “I assume I can make a small exception just this once.”

I walk across the side of the table and give her a big squeeze. We squabble often, but I do worry about and am very proud of her. Not that I will ever explicitly say that out loud. We finish our meal with an easy energy and conversation flowing between us.

An hour later, I’m standing at the door, thanking her for dinner and congratulating her again. Just as I turn around to leave, she stops me.

“Monty?” she asks, and I know by the tone of her voice that she is serious.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Please don’t,” she sighs “Please don’t go with him tonight. Richard, I mean.”

I smile at her. “I wasn’t going to anyway.”

She smiles back and bids me goodnight before closing the door. I check the time on my phone, seeing it reads 8:30. I can still make it if I head there now, I think. I walk to my car, sit down, and pull up Richard Peele’s address on my GPS. On the drive there, the devil and angel on my shoulders are battling it out in my head. I know I shouldn’t go, but that doesn’t stop me from pulling into his driveway fifteen minutes later. Though he is only a year older than me, he still has daddy’s money, so he has quite an impressive house. I step inside without even knocking, we do this often enough, and kick off my shoes. He is in the kitchen pouring two glasses of red wine. I really hope he doesn’t think this is a date. I intend to simply get some, and leave early tomorrow morning. I walk into the kitchen and kiss him hard on the lips without a word. He puts down the glass, grabs me by the back of my thighs, and carries me to his room.

The next morning when I wake up, we aren’t touching. Opposite sides of the bed, just like always. I look over to make sure he’s still sleeping, then get up, pull on my clothes, and leave the room. The days he wakes before me are a nightmare. The same lecture every time. “Don’t even think to tell anyone about this, or your job is gone. I could make your life hell Montague.” 

You already do. I wish I could say. I couldn’t. Ever. I wouldn’t do anything that could possibly sacrifice what I have now. I swiftly hop down his large staircase and reach the door. I throw my feet in my shoes just enough so that my heels stick out the backs, and walk out.

On the drive home, I decide to stop at Starbucks for an iced coffee. In the parking lot, I properly put on my shoes, straighten my already very wrinkled shirt, and run a hand through my messy hair. Good God, I look like an absolute mess. I grab my phone and keys from the cupholder, and walk up to the front of the shop. I look around, thanking anyone who might be listening, for the fact that nobody I know is here. The cafe is blessedly empty, and I walk up to order my drink. The moment the last word of my order leaves my mouth, the little bell at the top of the door rings, indicating a new visitor. I look over after I finish answering the barista’s order questions, and I am tempted to stick my hand in the blender when I see who is at the door.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Percy says, sauntering over to me with a mischievous grin.

“What do you have my location or something?” I say once he is next to me.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he teases.

The barista hands me my drink, and when I walk over to the dispenser to grab a straw, Percy follows me.

“You look, interesting, this morning. One can only assume what you’ve been up to this weekend,” he prods.

“What I do in my personal life, is none of your business.” I snap, though he definitely, one-hundred percent knows what went on last night. He just doesn’t need to know who with. I shove past him.

“See you on Monday!” he shouts across the store once I reach the exit.

“Yeah,” I murmur, then walk out the door without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! i am aware i uploaded 10k in 2 days but i could not wait to release this chapter !! enjoy it homies <3

It is ten-forty in the morning on a Monday morning and my sanity is already being tested. Allow me to elaborate. Last Friday, one of my students asked me why I was fighting with Percy, and when I answered them, it wasn’t up to par. She decided she would get the class to ask Percy why he hates me so much the next time they had music class, aka today. So now I stand on the hallway side of the door to Percy’s classroom, listening to my kids bang on tambourines through the wall. I am understandably nervous about what Percy is going to say to me about my kids’ questions. I shift my weight back and forth on my feet, and pantomime how I am going to explain this mess, pretending the door is him as I mouth words to it in practice. I don’t seem to notice the music stopping and the door opening as I have my eyes closed.

“Um, Henry?” Percy asks, standing in the threshold, understandably confused, and I snap out of my trance immediately. I feel my face burn, and I am sure it is bright red to match.

“Oh, hello, Percy,” I stammer, trying to conceal the pure embarrassment in my voice. 

Inside the room, one of my students, Jemma, calls out to me. “Hi, Mr. Monty!” she exclaims, which prompts a couple other kids to wave. They are sitting on the floor, in a pile of easy-to-play musical instruments. Jemma holds up her tambourine to show me. I always thought I would hate children, and I would never want one of my own, but my students are some of the sweetest kids I have ever met.

“Why, hello, my darling,” I reply, which makes her giggle. “We should get going now. Don’t want to bother Mr. Newton, now do we?” 

Right then, Percy puts a hand on my back and shoves me the rest of the way into the room, closing the door behind me once I am in. 

“Don’t worry about me, I don’t have a class after you guys. So—” he turns his attention towards me with a smirk— “Mr. Monty, what are these rumors I have been hearing from your students that you have been spreading rumors about me, saying that you think I am mean?” he finishes.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t absolutely terrified of him in this moment, so I put my charm to the test in hopes he gets distracted by my good looks. I look out across the sea of seven year olds and, in a monster voice, say “You tricksters! I never said Mr. Newton was  _ mean _ , I said he was having a bad day on Friday.”

He isn’t impressed. “What makes you think I was having a bad day?” he asks, and the mischievous look he gives me makes me want to punch all the freckles off of his face. The peanut gallery snickers and whisper to each other.

“Oh, I don’t know. Random things,” I add, and give him a pleading look that I hope screams  _ End this NOW _ , as I intend it to.

He seemingly gets the message, because he straightens and declares “Well, now that that’s sorted, you guys can go back to class. See you on Wednesday!”

The kids groan a little, but say goodbye and file into their lines at the door nonetheless. I wave to him and guide them out of the room. We walk across the hall, and they settle into their seats. The next hour or so go by fairly quick, my students being fairly tuckered out because it’s Monday and they are seven. Tough weekend of coloring and Peewee soccer for them. I bring them to the lunch room and walk back to my classroom. I am far more energized today, having actually gotten a cold brew before work.

When I settle down in my chair, I take the sandwich I made this morning out of its box. Yes, box. Jeanne raided through my house the first day she began her witchcraft journey and threw out all of my plastic sandwich and paper bags. She said they were bad for the environment and we need to give back to the earth. I agree with her, of course, but I really wish she would have let me use the last of them, instead of wasting them. When I told her this was  _ worse _ than just using them and not buying more, she cried and apologized profusely. It has been a couple of years, but I haven’t bought a single box of plastic sandwich bags since. Jeanne has been my best friend since junior year when we hooked up in a closet at a party. That’s definitely not the most conventional way to meet new people, but whatever. 

I take a big bite of my sandwich, but I get startled by a knocking sound on the door. Percy sticks his head in, but his eyes are closed, which I find weird until he yells “Are you decent? Can I come in?”

“You asshole. Yes, I’m decent. Do you need something?” I huff from my desk.

“Well,  _ I  _ don’t need anything. I just figured you would appreciate some of the pastry I brought you-” and I cut him off before he can finish his sentence.

“You brought more?” I cry.

“Oh no, since I don’t need anything, you must want me to lea-”

“No! Stay!” Shit, where did  _ THAT _ come from? He raises and eyebrow and I shake my head and correct myself. “I mean- give me the pastry.”

He comes inside the room and drops the to-go box on my desk. And then, he stops at one of the tables and  _ sits down. _ I don’t care enough to kick him out.

“So.” He draws it out. “How was your weekend?”

I look at him with irritation. His eyes widen.

“No! I mean, seriously. Not about that.”

“I had dinner with my sister. She told me she got into Harvard’s medical program.” I take another bite of the sandwich.

“That’s incredible! Felicity, isn’t it?” My head shoots up.

“How did you know that?” I ask. I can’t recall a time where I have ever talked about her here.

“She had to come pick you up from a meeting once because your car was towed,” he states, completely nonchalant. I will let him continue to think the car was towed instead of taken away by my father.

“You  _ remembered _ that?! That was two years ago!” I exclaim. He just shrugs and cuts a piece away from the pastry with the side of his fork. 

“What did you do?” I ask him.

“My parents came down for dinner,” he says.

I laugh and he looks at me strangely. “Your girlfriend must have  _ loved  _ that,” I grin.

His face gets more confused. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, your wife then,” I correct.

“I’m gay,” he says bluntly and I almost drop my sandwich.

“Really?!”

“Is that...okay with you?” he asks. He sounds kind of offended.

“That would be quite hypocritical, don’t you think?” 

_ What are you doing? _

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I’m bisexual,” I blurt.

His face goes red. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine-” I start, but get cut off by my alarm going off. The screen reads  _ GO PICK UP THE KIDS _ and I let out a small gasp. I spent my entire lunch period talking to him?

“Sorry, I have to go pick them up from lunch,” I sigh.

He looks up at the clock and then does a double take. “I guess I just wasn’t watching the time.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t either.”

We sort of just stare at each other for a few seconds. He stands up and wipes his hands on his pants. 

He walks to the door and stops in the doorway. “Well, I’ll see you later, Monty.”

“Yeah, you too.”

It only occurs to me once he’s gone that that was the first time he ever called me Monty.

  
  


============================================================================

The kids are dismissed a couple hours later, but the day goes quickly when you spend its entirety thinking. Why the hell did he just now call me Monty?  _ What the hell is going on? _ My phone buzzing in my pocket brings me out of my own head.

jeanne the queen: we’re still going to feli’s gala thing on wednesday right?

Shit. I completely forgot about that. Felicity has a fundraiser gala in the city for her new school, and she invited me and told me to bring a friend. I have a total of two friends, and Sinjon was busy with his boyfriend, so Jeanne hopped on the idea immediately. Felicity is very concerned with making a good impression on her new professors, so her lecture to the both of us was expected. She sat us both down on the couch and basically tore us to shreds for half an hour. 

You: yeah i’m gonna ask her if we can get mickey dee’s afterwards

jeanne the queen: never call it that ever again also why do we need to ask her

jeanne the queen: actually nvm ask her

You: exactly 

I shut off the phone and stuff it in my pockets. I shovel the mess on my desk into my bag and buckle it closed. After turning out all the lights in my room, I make my way to the door. I step out into the hallway and fully expect to see Percy standing across from me, but his room is empty.  _ That’s strange. I’m almost always gone before he is. _ I stride down the hall, out the front door, running through the pouring rain in the parking lot, and end up at my car. I unlock it and fall in, shaking the rain out of my hair to the best of my ability. I’m not really wet, but there are definitely some drops in my hair and shoulders. I turn the key and put my foot on the gas to pull away, but the car won’t turn on. I try a couple more times, but nothing works. Checking under the hood is futile, seeing that I know jack about cars. The only idea I can think of is to go inside and ask Richard for a ride. It’s the worst possible option, but it’s the only one. I walk back into the building with my tail between my legs and tell the secretary my car won’t start, and that I need to talk to Peele. She lets me come through, and I’m about to barge through his office door, but I am stopped by the voices coming from inside. So of course I do what anyone would do and lean on the door, my hand cupped around my ear to eavesdrop.

_ “I don’t know what you want me to do! This is how I have always taught, and there has never been a problem until now.” _

_ “The district is looking for a less hands-on approach. If you can’t keep up with that, we might need to have another discussion.” _

_ “Mr. Peele, it’s just-” _

The only person that calls Richard “Mr. Peele” is Percy. 

“ _ Mr, Newton, you will do what is needed, or we might need to look for someone else who will.” _

_ Harsh, Richard,  _ I think. I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t notice the footsteps coming closer and the door knob turning. All my weight is against the door, so I fall forward when it opens. Falling forward, right onto Percy’s chest. The sleeves on his baby blue button up shirt are pushed to his elbows, and stray curls have fallen out of the knot on the back of his head. He catches me in his arms when I fall, and we look at each other for a second before I pull away and he clears his throat. 

“Why are you back, Mr. Montague?” Peele asks, exasperated.

I shift awkwardly under the stress of his eyes. “My car won’t start. I need a ride.”

“Once Mr. Newton and I finish our conversation I-”

“I can take him!” Percy shouts, clearly trying his hardest to get out of this wonderful discussion he must have been having.

“Okay, but this is not over, understand?”

“Yeah, see you later!” he exclaims, pulling me to his chest and hanging onto the doorknob. He swings the door closed with a slam. The moment we are back in the common area of the main office, he lets me go.

“Oh my God, thank you so much,” he sighs.

“That wasn’t exactly my plan.”

“You could have just said you’re welcome.” He chuckles, making his way to the door.

I smile a little against my will. “Would that make you happy?” I tease.

He spares me a grin and a look over his shoulder. “Immensely.”

“Well, then I won’t say it.”

He huffs and shakes his head. 

Walking through the parking lot to his car in the rain wasn’t enjoyable, seeing that he parked in the farthest spot from the school. I made sure to make him aware of my annoyance. Once we fall in, I take a second to absorb the new atmosphere. His car is by far the most ridiculous looking thing I have ever seen. There is a small cat plush on the dashboard, and a pair of red fuzzy dice on the mirror. Also on the mirror, there are two of those little tree air fresheners. Two.

“Percy, what are these?” I ask as he turns the key and adjusts the radio.

“Air fresheners. Have you never seen them before?” he questions, pausing his movements to look at me.

“Yes, I have seen them. I wasn’t born yesterday,” he opens his mouth for some sort of remark, but I cut him off before he can. “I am confused as to why there are  _ two. _ ” I turn over the trees in my hand to read the backs. One is vanilla, the other is cinnamon. Fits him well. 

He rubs a hand on the back of his neck and ducks his head. “I couldn’t decide, so I put both up.”

I let out a bark of laughter, which prompts him to look at me innocently. 

“Oh you’re serious.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Anyway, what’s your address?” Changing the subject, I see.

“Just give me your phone and I will put it in.”

He hands me his phone, with the GPS already open. I type in my address and give it back. He looks at it, nods, and presses navigate.

We are about a quarter of the way into the drive when I decide to ask the question that has been on my mind since I interrupted them in the office.

“So, what was Peele on your ass about?”

He growls under his breath, and I avert my eyes and look out the window. Good lord.

“We were discussing my teaching style and how it interferes with the curriculum.” and wow, he sounds pissed. “I’m a music teacher! How am I supposed to use a hands-off approach? Does he even understand what music is?”

I can’t help but feel sympathy for that one. “He’s kind of an asshole,” I say.

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, he’s an asshole,” I agree and he grins. The smile fades in a split second, as he is reminded of the topic of conversation.

“God, I hate Richard Peele,” he grumbles.

“ _ We _ hate Richard Peele,” I retaliate. What he does next is something I would have thought was completely out of character for him. He rolls down all the windows, rain sploshing in, and screams:

“WE HATE RICHARD PEELE!”

His eyes are bright as he looks at me for a response. He’s wild in this moment, shirt still pushed up to his elbows with curls cascading around his face and freckles stretched across his cheeks as he smiles.  _ He looks good,  _ I think.

My eyes bug out of my skull, and I can’t help but laugh at him and say it back. Here in my mortal enemy’s car, both of us soaked from the rain, and dizzy with laughter, I feel free.

A couple minutes later, we arrive at my apartment. It is small, and not the prettiest from the outside, but as long as it has a roof, I don’t care. He rolls up the windows and unlocks the door to let me out, and as I step out, I feel his hand on my arm.

“Wait!” he screams and I almost fall back into the car from the shock. “Ah, sorry, I just wanted to- give you this. In case you need another ride, or something,” he stammers, embarrassed. He holds out a slip of paper with some numbers messily scribbled on it. A phone number.  _ HIS  _ phone number. 

I take it from him and shove it in my pocket. “Um, yeah. Will do. Thanks for the ride.”

“Any time.”

I slam the door shut, and run inside to get out of the rain.

============================================================================

On Wednesday night, Jeanne is over at my place to get ready for the gala. I decide on a dark red button-up shirt and a black tie. All my clothes are laid out on my bed, and Jeanne is in my bathroom fixing her hair and makeup. She thought it would be cute if we matched our outfits, so she is wearing a red dress with a slit that climbs all the way to her hip. I told her Feli would have an aneurysm when she saw it, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. I grab the clothes from my bed, putting them on and taking a look in the mirror. I look hot, which is why I debate taking a picture to send to Richard, but decide against it. I don’t want to encourage him. I don’t even want anything to do with him anymore, to be completely honest.  _ As if you ever did _ , my brain supplies. In a moment of sheer confidence, I delete his number from my phone.

Jeanne steps out of the bathroom, looking ethereal as always, with her long blonde hair curled and gold eyeshadow on her lids to match the hoops in her ears.

“Damn, Monty! You clean up nice!” she exclaims, and I do a pose for her. 

“I could say the same about you, Miss. Le Bray.”

She smiles, then clicks her tongue. “I wish Sinjon were able to come.”

I agree, but we both know that tonight was the only day this week him and his boyfriend were free to spend time together. We of course wish he could have come with, but his boyfriend is so busy with his job at the bank, we know tonight was important to him.

“Yeah, I do too. Maybe next time.”

She steps closer and inspects me up and down. 

“We need to do something with that mop on your head,” she announced, running a hand through my hair. 

I roll my eyes. “What did you have in mind?” I ask, and she tugs me into the bathroom and pulls out her curling iron.

An hour later, we are sitting on the couch fully dressed watching Lemonade Mouth when the doorbell rings. I’m surprised she even rang it. Usually, Felicity will just barge in my house. She walks into my living room, which I tidied for company, and scoffs. She is wearing an emerald green evening gown with elbow length, tight sleeves.

“Really? Lemonade Mouth? Again?” 

I scowl at her. “Hello, Feli. You look nice.”

She's twisting her fingers, which I know means she is nervous. “Thanks. It is time to leave. Are you children ready?” Jeanne smiles the warmest smile at her, and she drops her hands. 

“Yeah, we are good.” Jeanne assures her. She lets out a breath.

We file into the car, Feli driving with me and Jeanne in the back. We have to drive into the city to get to her new campus, and Felicity allows me to plug my phone into the aux to listen to my music. On our third play of Arms Tonite by Mother Mother however, she unplugs it, rolls down the window, and threatens to throw it onto the highway. I wrap my arms around her neck from the backseat to try and get it away from her, making the car swerve and Jeanne scream. She throws the phone at me, and parks the car on the side of the empty road. Me and Jeanne look at each other, both of us terrified, and then turn our attention back to Feli as she turns around in her seat.

“What did I tell you both? No reeking havoc, no getting hammered, no finding hookups, and no lighting the place on fire. We haven’t even gotten to the campus, and you already almost crashed the car! I shouldn’t have even brought you in the first place. This gala is my only chance to make a good first impression and show everyone I’m not just Henri Montague’s daughter. I won’t let you ruin this for me!” she yells, and I can see the tears starting to form in her eyes.

I soften immediately and scoot over to the middle seat to look at her. “Felicity, I didn’t know how much this meant to you. I hope you know that he doesn’t define you. Anyone that thinks so, is a goddamn idiot. I’m sorry for being so stupid.”

She wipes the tear that was making it’s way down her cheek and the corner of her mouth lifts a little. “You’re really dumb, Monty. You know that right?” she laughs.   
  


“All too well. Now are we ready to go, Doctor Montague?” I say and she nods, turning the key and tightening her grip on the wheel. Jeanne squeezes a hand on my shoulder and smiles. I slide back into my seat as the car moves forward.

============================================================================

Felicity parks the car in the lot of the campus. I get out first, opening the door for the both of them. Once we are all outside Feli sucks in her breath beside me. I take her hand and give it a squeeze. She nods and I let go as we walk towards the hall. 

The giant room is filled with freshmen and their rich parents, and is decorated beautifully. Golden light and orchestra music basks the entire room in sunshine. Jeanne comes up behind me.

“Well  _ this _ is far better than Bunker Hill,” she declares, looking out at the sea of people. Bunker Hill is the community college she attended after high school. She was disinherited by her father for refusing to settle down and get married right away. We met at the private high school we were both sent away to by our parents. I was torn apart when she went away to college. I spent a gap year at home before going away to Boston University, but she started right away. I never had many friends, being the school scandal and all, but she and Sinjon were always there for me. When they left me alone, I had no one except Felicity, and my father. That was the year Felicity and I became so close. She never had many friends, and mine were gone, so we had each other. Jeanne and I reconnected once I came back from school and got a job at the school. 

“Tell me about it.” I agree. 

Felicity pulls us towards an empty table near the front and gives us both ten raffle tickets.

“There are baskets and stuff on the left, and the food is over to the right,” she explains, pointing as she goes.

Jeanne looks at me. “What do you want to do first?” she asks.

I shrug. “Tickets, I guess.”    
  


We walk away to the table with the baskets. She breaks off to the left so I start on the right. I put a couple in a basket with bottles of wine, though it doesn’t really interest me that much. I’m debating whether or not I should just give my tickets to Jeanne, but I decide to just drop them all in some random bucket with an envelope in front of it. I don’t bother reading it, and head over to the food table.

Once I settle down at the table and start snacking on a bread roll, someone official-looking steps up to the podium. She taps the mic a couple times.

“Hello everybody! Welcome to Harvard University. Thank you so much for attending this benefit for our incoming freshmen! Please help yourself to some food, and look over our raffle items. Thank you!” she says, and everyone claps. The orchestra starts back up and there is a violin feature, which reminds me of the times Percy practices on his fiddle during lunch breaks. Jeanne and I start a game of tic tac toe on a napkin to entertain ourselves. The music and conversation flows around the table as Felicity floats around the room greeting people.

“This really does mean a lot to her, huh?” Jeanne asks, tapping me on the arm to draw my attention to Felicity talking to one of her teachers. We both watch them for a minute.

“Yeah, she has dreamt of this since she was in fifth grade. Don’t tell her I said so, but I really am proud of her,” I insist. Jeanne rolls her eyes.

“I think that is something she would appreciate,” she guessed.

“Oh, no. Felicity doesn’t like affection,” I assure her. She nods and turns back to our game.

An hour or so later, the lady from earlier walks back up to the podium.

“At this time, please give us your attention as we announce our raffle winners!” she announces.

Felicity plops back in her seat beside me, drops her head on the table, and groans.

Jeanne puts a hand on the back of her head. “You alright, honey?” 

“Socializing is so exhausting. How do you do it, Monty?” she complains and lifts her head to look at me.

I straighten my tie dramatically and explain “It’s all in the dimples, darling,” which makes them both giggle. I continue to mime being smart and when I open my eyes they are both staring at me.

“What is it?” I falter.

Felicity points to the announcer, who is calling my name and holding up a ticket. I shoot up out of my seat.

“I’m right here!” I yell, and then shuffle up to take my prize. It’s the envelope I didn’t pay attention to. I open it once I am back at my seat and two tickets fall out. I look at Felicity and she snatches them out of my hand.

“Looks like you got yourself two seats in a private box to the orchestra this Saturday,” she explains. I throw my head back in annoyance and groan dramatically. It’s not like I have plans anyway, but the orchestra? Really?

“I don’t want to go to an orchestra! Do I look like a hundred year old man?” I ask.

“Some days.”

“Don’t be rude,” I snap at her.

She turns back to her food and I look down at the tickets again. Sinjon hates heights, so that’s a no, and Jeanne has a date with Johanna on Saturday. Felicity giggles at me, which gets my attention.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It’s just,” she barks a laugh again, “Why don’t you take Percy with you?”

I roll my eyes at her. I know she’s kidding, but I also know he doesn’t have plans, of course he doesn’t. I know for a fact that he would enjoy it.

“How about this,” I prompt. “If I take him with me, you have to listen to me complain about him without limit whenever I want to.”

She thinks for a moment, and then “Deal.”

I pull out my phone and open his contact. I typed in his number after I got inside my apartment on Monday, so it is saved now. Felicity raises her eyebrow when she sees me pull it up, and I flip her off, which makes her huff. I snap a picture of the tickets and send it to him.

You: *Image*

You: are you free on saturday?

bane of my existence: Oh? What’s this?

You: tickets to a private orchestra box on saturday fuckface do you want to go or not

bane of my existence: Am I picking you up?

  
  


To be honest, I’m extremely shocked by his answer. I expected a simple “fuck off” or something, but definitely not this. 

“What did he say?” Jeanne asks, leaning in to see the phone. I tilt it toward her and her jaw drops.

“He said yes,” I say, blankly staring forward. Felicity begins to cackle, which gets her some strange looks from the next table over, though she doesn’t seem to care.

“Dear brother, you are completely and utterly screwed,” she laughs and Jeanne joins in.

“You are both dead to me,” I sneer.

============================================================================

On the drive home, Felicity seems to be in much better mood than when we were on our way to the hall. It could be the fact that she did a good job talking to her teachers and such or, the more likely possibility, is that she is still reeling from the fact that I basically asked Percy out on a bet and he said yes. I am still a little conflicted about that whole deal. I could just stay home and ghost him, but the scary part of that is, I’m not really sure I want to. Oh God, am I friends with him now? No, that can’t possibly be. Why would I ever want something to do with such a stupid guy who wears perfectly ironed button ups to work, has two air fresheners in his car at the same time because he couldn’t decide on a scent, and eats nothing but desserts for lunch everyday?

“You’re thinking too loud,” Jeanne says, effectively derailing my train of thought.

“What makes you say that?”

“Your eyebrows are furrowed like they always get when you think too hard,” she confirms. 

“Well, I have a lot to think about.”

“What? Like your date on Saturday with your self-proclaimed mortal enemy?” Felicity interjects.

“It’s not a date!” I huff.

“What’s his favorite color?” she asks.

“Blue. Like, the baby blue they put in nurseries,” I answer immediately, not thinking about the consequences of answering that fast. I see her raise an eyebrow and grin in the rearview mirror.

“That’s insignificant! I barely know anything that matters about him.”

“Alright, Monty,” Jeanne assures me, though the skepticism in her voice is heavy and obvious. I throw my hands up in exasperation and she laughs as Felicity pulls into the Mcdonald’s drive-thru. Felicity turns back to us and we give her our orders. Once we get our food, she pulls into an empty spot so we can all eat. We finish and she drives Jeanne and I back to my house, bidding us a good night as we get out of the car.

Jeanne walks into my flat to grab her keys. “He said yes awfully quick, don’t you think?”

I groan. “How many times is this topic going to come up? I don’t like him like that.”

Her head snaps around. “Like  _ what _ exactly?” she asks.

Shit. “Like, friends! We are coworkers, that is all.”

“Coworkers that have each other’s number saved, know insignificant quirks about each other, stare at each other during parties-”

I cut her off. “What party?”

“The Halloween one you took me to.” she answers. 

Shit. I remember exactly what she is talking about now. A faculty Halloween work party a week ago, with lots of alcohol. I have gotten better about my drinking since then, mostly. My new rule is to only drink when invited to, and I have been too busy with work to get invited to do much of anything. Anyway, Percy was wearing a low cut pirate blouse that fit him perfectly, a tight pair of black pants, and had his hair tied back like he always does as his costume. He looked far less like a nun than he usually does, with his button-ups and khakis at work. I don’t remember much from that night though, other than what happened after Richard took me back to his place, which is still very fuzzy.

“I wasn’t staring at him.”

“A-ha. Alright, well, just think about it,” she concludes.

“There isn’t anything to think about.”

She sighs. “Goodnight, Monty.”

“Goodnight, Jeanne.”

She leaves and I lock the door behind her. I lean my back on it once it’s closed and scrub a hand over my face. “ _ There isn’t anything to think about, _ ” my ass.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all !! please leave me a comment and some kudos if u liked it !! be on the lookout for chapter 3 !!
> 
> see y'all later !!


	3. Chapter 3: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! i decided to split this chapter in two because cliff hanger, but the other half is written, and will be released either tonight or tomorrow morning, depends. please leave a comment and some kudos. anyways, enjoy !!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS IN THE END NOTES!! PLEASE READ THE END NOTES BEFORE READING!!

This Friday night looks much different than it could have, but the fact that I deleted Richard’s number changed what probably would have happened, to what is happening now. I am sitting on my couch, ice cream in hand, watching Criminal Minds. And crying. Did I mention crying? I don’t think I have cried this much in my entire life, and it’s over something- or someone- as stupid as him. He’s so confusing! Why  _ did _ he say yes as fast as he did? Does he want to be friends with me?  _ More _ than friends? Do I want to be more than friends with him? Am I misreading this? There is only one option I have to put my thoughts to rest.

“ _ What is it? Are you alright?”  _

“Hi Jeanne,” I sniffle into the phone.

“ _ Monty what’s wrong?”  _ she replies, sounding extremely concerned.

“I just- I don’t know what I am doing.”

“ _ Is this about Percy? _ ” she guesses.

“Yeah. I’m so confused about everything between us.”

“ _ What exactly are you confused on?” _

I huff. “The way he answered so quick to my text, even though it was the first time I ever texted him at all.”

She’s silent for a second.  _ “I think that is something you should talk to  _ him  _ about. _ ”

“Thanks I guess.”

“ _ I’m sorry I couldn’t help more,” _ she explains, and I almost feel bad, but I am far too petulant for sympathy at this point.

“Bye Jeanne,” I say, and I don’t wait for her reply before hanging up, plucking a pillow off the couch and screaming into it.

  
  


After I get my shit cleaned up, it is one in the morning and I migrate into my bedroom to attempt to sleep. I know damn well I am going to end up waking during the early afternoon tomorrow if I don’t go to sleep  _ right now _ . Though here I am, curled into myself facing the wall, staring blankly at it. Damn him and his head full of perfectly curled chocolate-brown ringlets, big brown doe eyes that have no business boring into my soul the way they do, and weird car. I have never been so stressed about a date. Wait no, not a date. This isn’t a date. It is just an outing between two acquaintances, who happen to hate each other. Nothing special. After another hour, I drift into a fitful sleep.

============================================================================

The next day, I wake up at one in the afternoon, as I knew I would. I want nothing more than to get absolutely plastered, then go back to bed. My hands shake from the withdrawal. Sinjon is coming over to help me get ready before the show, and I am fucking terrified. Sinjon Westfall is the sweetest man on earth, yet when he gets pissed off at something, it is like a switch flips. He can go from angel to demon in no time flat. He knows the story. Mostly. Not really at all. All he knows is that I “asked someone out” and that I need help getting ready. It probably isn’t the smartest idea to tell him the whole story once he is at my house, but there is no going back now.

I stumble into my kitchen and turn on the Keurig. No way in hell am I going to get through today without any caffeine. While I wait for the water to heat, I crack open a Monster Energy from the fridge, and chug it as fast as possible. I have found that profuse amounts of energy drinks and coffee help a lot with withdrawal. Once the coffee maker starts beeping, I put in the coffee and watch it stream in, huffing the smell from the cup, and then pour in the last couple drops left in my energy drink can. I take my Monster-infused coffee into the couch to watch some Netflix. While I distract myself with Queer Eye, I get a text from Sinjon.

  
  


waterfall: be there in 30

  
  


Our plan was for him to come over to help at three and it’s only- two thirty-five. Seems as if I got a little  _ too _ distracted.

  
  


You: k

waterfall: u got ur outfit planned already right

You: uh yeahhhh

waterfall: monty i stg

  
  


I get up from the couch on shaky, over-caffeinated legs and wobble into the kitchen to put my mug in the sink. Once I’m done, I haul ass into my room to pick out an outfit as fast as I possibly can, in fear of the trademark Westfall wrath. I end up throwing a thin peach colored tie, a white undershirt and a pair of black slacks out on the bed. That seems appropriate for this event. I proudly saunter back into the living room only to see Sinjon at the door. His curly blond hair shines in the light, almost as brightly as his smile. When I open it to let him in, this five-foot ten ray of sunshine decides to lift me off my feet in a hug.

“Monty! I haven’t seen you in so long! Did you grow? I feel like you grew,” he teases, and I punch him in the shoulder.

“No, you bastard, I’m twenty-four, not twelve.”

“I know that, obviously,” he assures, walking further into my apartment. When he sees the empty energy drink can and mug. He picks up the can and looks to me, concerned. “Tell me you didn’t.”

I avert my eyes.

“Monty! You are literally going to have a heart attack one of these days,” he scolds. “It can’t possibly be  _ this _ bad.”

“It is. I haven’t exactly told you the entire story.”

He raises an eyebrow.

  
  


After I rant to him and give him the gist, how complicated Percy and I’s relationship is and the true nature of the “date”, he just sits there on the couch, staring at me. I come to sit down next to him from my area in front of him where I told the story. His eyes follow me, and the moment I open my mouth to say something, he bursts out laughing, which is a shock, to say the least. I patiently wait for him to finish, hands resting awkwardly on my knees. When he notices that I’m not laughing, he goes pale as a sheet.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asks, as if he desperately wants me to start laughing and explain the joke.

“As the grave.”

“Oh my God,” he cries and puts his head between his knees. “Monty, what are you going to do?”

“Go, I guess,” I shrug.

“After that, fucknuts,” he says and that is how I know this is serious. Usually I get “bitch” or “moron”. “Fucknuts” is always saved for the worst of the worst.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know what happens after tonight.”

“Well then,” he stands, “We are gonna make you look hot regardless.”

I let out a sigh of relief, hug him, then follow as he marches into my bedroom. Once there, he picks apart the outfit on my bed. All of it is up to his standards, the only exception being the tie.

“What color is he wearing?” he questions, attention focused on the clothes while he chews his bottom lip.

“I haven’t asked.”

He moans with his eyes to the sky. “Can you  _ guess _ ?”

“Um, light blue probably.”

He sighs. “You’re in the clear then. Have you studied the color matching guide I gave you?”

That, I actually did do. Aside from my charm, my looks are my only good quality, so I try to enhance them as much as possible. 

He throws the clothes at me with the instruction to get changed in the bathroom. I do so, sparing a glance in the mirror as I finish. This outfit is definitely softer than my ensemble for the gala, but this is a whole new ball game. I emerge and he pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, raving about my looks like a proud mother about to send her son to prom. I am shoved back into the bathroom for my hair, which he curls into waves. For real, this man is a Goddamn wizard at what he does. No wonder he makes his living off of it. He dabs a little eyeshadow onto the corners of my eyes and contours my cheeks with light brown powder. When I look back in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I look like an honest to God model. We make our way back into the living room so I can see him off.

“Please promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” he pleads, holding out his pinky.

“Have you met me? I’ll try my best,” I joke, but his face stays serious. I roll my eyes and wrap mine around his. He pulls back to pat down my arms and observe his work. With a nod, he pats me on the cheek twice, and pushes past to leave. Once he does, I sit down on the couch to wait for Percy.

============================================================================

Twenty minutes of breathing exercises and a bouncing leg, my doorbell rings. I stand to open it, stalling a little at the couch to collect myself.  _ Breathe. It’s just Percy. _

When I open the door for him, he is facing away from me, running his fingers through his hair. At the sound, he bolts around and smiles awkwardly at me, and zounds, he looks gorgeous. His curls are arranged perfectly into a ponytail at the back of his head with two strands hanging down to frame his face. He is wearing a white shirt similar to mine, with a pale blue tie that compliments his light brown skin perfectly. He must catch me staring, for he blushes and avoids my eyes. 

“You look like a trainwreck,” I say, you know, like an idiot. He understands, though, for he shows me a devilish grin.

“I could say the same thing about you, Henry,” he teased. I groan, and he laughs.

“I thought we were past that!”

“Oh never.”

We walk to his car, and he opens my door for me. We step in and I take in my surroundings for the second time. The familiarity of the car calms me, even though I have only been there once. I look at the rearview mirror, and notice the cinnamon tree is missing. I touch the vanilla one with my pointer finger.

“Where is cinnamon?” I ask, and he looks up from where he was plugging his phone into the aux.

“What? Oh I...” he starts and then stops.

“Go on then, where is it?”

“I uh, I took it down,” he pops open his glovebox and lo and behold, there it is. It’s sitting on top of a picture, so I grab the photo and turn it over in my hand. It is a picture of him and a puppy. He looks a little younger than he does now, and he was beaming like a madman. I tilt it towards him and he smiles at it.

“That’s me and Rhiannon, my parents gave her to me when I moved into my house after college,” he explains, and he must really love her, because his smile doesn’t falter once the entire time he is talking.

“She seems nice,” I say.

“Yeah, she really is. You will have to meet her one day,” he explains, then puts it back in the glovebox. I reach in before he closes it and take out the air freshener. He looks at me confused as I put it next to the vanilla scent.

“I liked it,” I say, and my voice is completely genuine. He blushes, and smiles as he starts the car.

  
  


============================================================================

  
  


This fully grown man I am in the car with has a playlist completely consisting of one band. We have gone through nine Florence and the Machine songs so far during our drive into the city, and it doesn’t seem that we will stop anytime soon. I teased him for it for the first fifteen minutes or so, but we now sit a comfortable silence as he hums along. The song we are on ends and the music shifts to an upbeat and cartoony song. I watch his face go red as a firetruck. My head snaps to the display to see what we are listening to, and when I comprehend it, I throw my head back, cackling.

“Percy Newton,” I struggle, “Are we listening to the fucking Animaniacs theme song right now?” I bark, and he goes to press the next song button so I grab his wrist in my hand. 

“Don’t you dare,” I say, and he drops it. I sing along until the song ends, and he keeps his eyes fixed on the road the entire time. The next song starts up, Florence and the Machine again, and he sighs with relief as I huff.

We pull into the hall’s parking lot, and my heart starts to speed up. The entire car ride into the city felt as normal as possible, but now the reality of the situation seems so much more real. He gets out and walks around to get my door for me.

“Shall we?” he asks, holding out his elbow for me to wrap my arm around. I do so with a nod and we start inside. 

============================================================================

  
  


The music hall is buzzing as we enter through the main doors. The lobby is beautiful, adorned with paintings and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The staircase leading up to our private box is carpeted with red velvet, and surrounded by shiny gold railings. As we walk up, Percy is basically pulling me behind him by my hand. Wait, does that count as him holding my hand? I try my best to casually slide my hand out of his while we walk but he turns around, grabs it again, and keeps walking. And just like that, my heart is beating at the speed of a hummingbird’s again. I can feel the excitement radiating off of him as we reach the top level of the stairs. He constantly checks our tickets while we walk so we don’t end up walking into the wrong box, but we find ours eventually. It is shielded from the hallway by a burgundy curtain, and I slide it open. Once I do, my breath catches in my throat. I walk forward and there are two chairs next to each other that look like they could be used as thrones, with the velvet fabric and gold furnishings. It reminds me of the interior of my father’s home office.  _ Breathe. You are fine. He’s not here,  _ I think, and walk to the front of the box. The box looks out across a sea of people below, and we are on the same level as the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I don’t think I have ever been up so high before. One little push and I could fall-

I stumble back away from the edge. Percy must sense my panic. I can hear him asking something, but I can’t understand what he’s saying over the roaring of blood in my ears.

I can’t even form a proper sentence. Everything is all messed up, and my throat is so dry. We are up so high, it feels like the floor is going to break and we are both going to die. My brain is screaming at me, get out  _ get out GET OUT GET OUT!  _ I fall onto my knees, tugging at my hair and gasping for air. Percy’s voice slices through my thoughts.

He’s kneeling in front of me, hands on my shoulders. The caffeine and stress combined amplify the panic by ten times. Sitting in this expensive box, covered in gold and velvet, I am brought back to the times my father would beat me into the ground of his study.  _ I need to get him off of me STOP TOUCHING ME _ . I throw his hands off my shoulders and curl into myself. He scoots back and puts his hands up in surrender. “Come on Monty, breathe. Big breath in,” I hear him gasp in some air for demonstration, and I try my best to match it. “And out. You’re doing so good.” he praises. I nod back at him, trying to stop hyperventilating.

My eyes are watering and my hands shake, but eventually, the panic subsides.

I drop my head onto my free hand. “My God, that was so embarrassing,” I mutter.

“No it wasn’t,” he hesitantly lifts my chin up with his finger and searches my eyes, “We can leave if you want to.”

I blink out the tears out and meet his concerned eyes. I give him a halfhearted smile. 

“I want to stay. Thank you, Perce.”

“Anytime,” he says, and walks me back to the seats as the orchestra below begins to warm up.

  
  


I am completely calm by the time the musicians begin playing and they are much better than I thought they would be. No offense to them, of course, but music has never affected me very much. Around four songs in, I look over at Percy to see his reaction and he’s crying. His eyes are bright and his mouth is gaping like a fish, so the tears making their way down his cheeks are definitely jarring.  _ Why are we both crying so much today? Jesus Christ, if I have to experience any more emotions, I’m going to vomit.  _ He notices my staring and beams at me, tears sticky on his cheeks. I look at him, confused.

“Sorry this is just, so beautiful,” he sniffles, wiping his eye with the palm of his hand. His eyes are crinkled and his smile gleams in the soft golden light of the auditorium. All of his features are soft and any impurities have vanished in the dreamy atmosphere. The two strands of hair curling in front of his face are sticking to the tears. Before I can stop myself, I reach out and push the left one behind his ear with my hand. I rest my hand on his cheek and search his eyes for a reaction. He sucks in his breath and leans toward me. Once we are about an inch away from each other, he grins softly at me.

“Hi,” he mumbles, and I watch his lips while he does. He follows my eyes and before he can say another word, I surge forward and press my lips to his.

His lips are soft against mine, and God, it’s unlike anything I have ever felt. It is so much  _ better.  _ Better than Richard, better than Jeanne and Sinjon, better than anyone I have ever kissed. The music climbs in the background, but I can’t even think straight. The way his lips feel on mine consumes all of my thoughts. The only thing running through my brain is  _ him, him, him. _

I pull away from him to see a reaction but the moment I do, he buries his fingers in my hair and yanks me back to him. He opens his mouth against mine and I groan as he deepens the kiss. I get out of my seat without letting him go and he helps me onto his lap. I straddle his legs and twine my fingers into his curls, tugging his head back for better access to his neck. I kiss down it and pull away with a gasp when he starts to move against me. I look back at him and his eyes are half-lidded and dark, his face pink.

“Do we,” I breathe against his lips, “Home? Should we go…” I falter, trying to catch my breath.

“Yes please,” he murmurs, so we frantically gather our things from the box and leave. We run down the hallway with my hand in his, a smile plastered on my face the entire time. We rush out the front doors and into his car. During the drive, the radio is at a low volume and his hand is squeezed on my thigh. Once we get to his apartment, he fumbles with the keys and pushes me inside once the door opens. I jump into his arms and start harshly kissing him again. He kicks the door shut with his foot, and carries me into his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS:
> 
> character has a panic attack  
> mention of child abuse  
> mention of alcohol withdrawal
> 
> please leave a comment and some kudos !! see ya later !!


	4. Chapter 3: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two bc i straight up could not wait . whoops anyways leave kudos and a comment and enjoy <3 
> 
> now take this go FETCH

The next morning, I wake in a bed that is most definitely not mine. I’m so tired and this bed feels like I am sleeping on a Goddamn cloud. I’m also not wearing any clothes, so I haven’t slept over at a friend’s house. I accept the fact that I gave up my resolution to stop drinking and spent the night at Richard’s. I nudge my face into the warm arms wrapped around- wait. Arms? There has never been a single morning where I have woken up in Richard’s embrace. I turn around slowly and see Percy’s face smushed into my- his pillow. At his house. Which means I must have slept here. And with that notion, I remember all of the events of last night, and fall out of his bed. I slap a hand over my mouth, straightening up to see Percy stir and nuzzle his face into the pillow, still asleep. I sigh with relief and hastily put on my boxers and some sort of band t-shirt from the floor. 

I stumble into the living room with my phone in hand to call Felicity. There is a large dark brown dog sleeping on the ground.  _ Must be Rhiannon, _ I think. I reach down to pet her on the head, and she follows me when I sit down on the couch. She lays her head across my lap and I scratch behind her ears as I dial Feli’s number. I bounce my leg as it rings. No answer. She is definitely getting a strongly worded text for that one. I huff and dial Jeanne. She doesn’t pick up. I realize she is probably still asleep from her date yesterday. Just as I thought, no answer. When I go to call Sinjon, I hear movement behind me and shut my eyes tight. Percy walks into the kitchen wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old t-shirt like mine. He rubs his eyes and turns on the coffee maker. I cough, and he shoots around to look at me with wide eyes.

“Hey,” I mumble.

He walks into the living room and sits next to me on the couch, a good amount of distance between us.

“How are you?” he asks, and I can tell he is stalling.

“Tired, mostly.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says, then l look away because I remember  _ why _ we are so tired.

“We should talk about it,” he hesitates.

“Probably,” I agree. I know it’s not the best thing I could say, but he continues anyway, so it is fine.

“I’ve never done that before.”

“Done what before?”

“Please, God, don’t make me say it,” he says, uncomfortable. I stare at him for a second before it clicks in my mind.

“Oh. So that means I was...” I start, but he finishes the statement for me.

“You were my first,” he finishes. I put my head in my hands.

I desperately try to push down my guilt, but it overflows. “I’m so sorry, Percy, I-”

He reaches out and touches a hand to my knee. “Don’t apologize.”

He is just so  _ good.  _ In every way. I can’t even comprehend why he wants anything to do with me. He deserves someone so much better. What am I even saying? He never even said he wants me in the first place! Why do I want him to want me? Oh my God, I want him to want me. I look up from where my head was resting. “Why not? I stole your first time-”

He interrupts me. “Monty, you didn’t steal anything from me. I wanted it too,” he assures.

I laugh. “Why would you ever want to waste something so special on me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurts then covers his mouth with his hand. My heart drops the moment the words leave his lips. There is no way this is actually happening. The worst part is, I am not mad at it, at all. I never thought I would feel so happy at a confession. My last brain cell starts scrambling around inside my head as I desperately search for something to say next. 

“I- you what? Me? How long? What-” I stutter.  _ Real smooth. _

“I don’t know when it started exactly, but for a while. The way you roll your eyes when you’re annoyed at me, the way you love your students like they’re your own kids, your stupid jokes and nicknames. I’m sorry this is-” he falters, running a hand through his hair. I grab his wrist and twine my fingers through his. 

“Stop apologizing,” I whisper, then bring his knuckles up to my lips. He stares at me.  _ It is now or never,  _ I think.

I suck in a breath. “It’s fine. It’s- I’m not-” _breathe,_ I think. 

“I’m not the smartest or the best for you, I know that, but I want to try. I want to try because of the hundreds of freckles under your eyes and the way they crinkle when you smile at me. I want to try because you can’t even decide on a fucking scent of air freshener for your car so you put both up. I want to try because of how much you love life. I want to try,” my voice cracks, “I want to try, because I think I’m in love with you too. I think I have been for a while,” I finish. He ducks his head and starts to cry. I gasp, pulling him into a hug to bury my fingers in his curls and my head in his shoulder. He holds me tight like I’m the only thing holding him to the earth, and that he will float away if he lets go. He rocks us back and forth as he weeps, muttering “thank you” in my ear over and over like a prayer. When he pulls away, there is a sweet smile on his face.

“Is that a yes then?” I ask.

He nods and pulls me into a gentle kiss. I rest my forehead on his and beam at him. Then I kiss him again, because how could I not. He sits back against the couch and I curl into his side. He drops a kiss to my hair, then guides my face to look at his.

“Promise me something,” he says.

“Anything.”

He sighs. “We have to be honest with each other if this is going to work.”

“Is there something specific you want to know?”

He bites his lip. “What happened at the booth last night? When you… panicked.”

My breath catches. “I just got nervous being up so high, that’s all.” I lie. How am I supposed to explain that the look of the theatre box was so similar to the interior of my father’s study, that I had a flashback to all the times my father beat me there?

“I don’t think it was just that,” he says. 

“I just- I had a rough time growing up. That box just reminded me of my father’s office, that’s all. I just got nervous.”

“Monty,” he asks hesitantly, “I know some people just don’t like being touched during panic attacks, but that doesn’t seem like your case.” He takes a breath. “Did your father ever… hurt you?”

I look down at my lap and don’t answer. 

His eyes widen and he opens his arms, then hesitates. “Oh my God, I… Can I hug you?”

I bite my lip and nod, and he takes me in his arms. I bury my face into his shoulder and clutch his curls in my hands. He rocks us back and forth.

“You don’t always have to ask to touch me. I just don’t like it when it happens during times like what happened yesterday,” I whisper.

“Thank you so much for telling me,” he says, pulling away to cradle my face in his hands.

I nod. “Alright, enough of that. I’m done with feelings for the week. What do you want for breakfast?” 

============================================================================

We bustle around his kitchen making breakfast together, playfully bumping hips or planting kisses on each other’s cheeks whenever given the chance. This beautiful morning I’m having was something I never could have anticipated. I have never had something like this. Up until now, I haven’t been in a relationship. A real one with kissing and love and shit. Last night was certainly something I’ll never forget, but I thought it would have to live on in my head as a sweet memory. I didn’t even put the pieces together that I was in love with him until now! Without his confession, I probably would have lived forever not knowing how I felt. All the little details make so much more sense now. The fact that he would blush whenever our hands brushed, how he thought of me when packing his lunch the morning he brought me my own pastry. Most things I thought were annoyance were actually just signs of how much I wanted to be around him.

“You’re thinking too loud,” he chirps from across the kitchen.

“Hm?” 

He makes his way over and hugs me from behind. “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, just normal stuff. I honestly don’t know if I would have told you how I felt if you hadn’t done it first” I reply.

“Seems like you just needed a push.”

“I’m surprised you even left the performance with me. You looked pretty moved by the music.”

“Maybe I went home with you because I went to that same show on Thursday with my mom.” he shrugs.

I turn around in his arms. “Well then, why did you come with me yesterday?” I prod, though I already know the answer.

“You know why, you prick,” he says. 

I grin at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”

He sighs affectionately. “How could I have refused a date with the likes of Henry Montague?” 

“Much better,” I purr, then pull down into a searing kiss. He holds me tighter as he groans into it. Just when I slip my hands under his shirt, the waffle timer goes off. I pull away and lightly headbutt his shoulder with a petulant whine. He laughs at me, then goes to take it out of the iron.

============================================================================

  
  


A few hours later, we are cuddling on the couch watching Ratatouille. We have spent the entire day together, which is something I’ve never done with someone I’ve slept with. Percy isn’t just “someone I’ve slept with”, though. He has his head in my lap as I play with his hair. For the first time in so long, I’m happy. Really, genuinely happy. No more waking up tangled in Richard Peele’s satin sheets, hating myself for the night before. I’m hoping that me blocking his number gets the point across that I don’t want him anymore. 

_ He’s never listened before. What makes you think he will leave you alone now? _

I squeeze my eyes shut to silence my thoughts. I swear to god, if Percy tries the whole “You’re thinking too loud” thing  _ now _ , I might just have to rip his hair out. 

“Can you stay the night?” he asks, looking up at me with his big, brown doe eyes.

“We have to work tomorrow.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we work at the same place. I can just drive you.”

“I don’t have work clothes here.”

“Then go get some,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable as he buries his face in my legs.

“You’re being annoying,” I joke.

He turns his head and smirks at me. “You love me! You said it yourself!” he teases.

“Yeah, well that was before. I’ve changed my mind.”

“No going back now!” he exclaims, sitting up for a second to kiss my cheek.

“You’re a leech!” I laugh, and he joins in with me. I’m sitting on Percy Newton’s couch with his head in my lap, laughing my ass off while watching Ratatouille, and I’m so happy.

He sobers up. “For real, can you stay? I don’t want to get up.”

“If I stay over, we won’t get any sleep,” I reply.

“That is true. I have quite the queue of Disney movies lined up,” he agrees, completely serious. My boyfriend (!!!) is a moron.

I huff. “Exactly what I meant.”

============================================================================

Percy gives me a ride home around dinner time and, since it is November, it’s pitch black outside. Thanksgiving is this Thursday, so my little friend group and our partners are having dinner at Felicity’s house, just like every year. I wonder what Percy’s plans are. Once he starts the car, he starts playing the Animaniacs theme on his phone for me. We sing along together until the song ends.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t have just stayed at my place tonight.”

“Many reasons. Many, many reasons,” I assure.

“No good ones,” he mutters.

“Oh yeah? What would a good reason for me to go home be?”

“You have some sort of… fish that you need to feed. Or, you have a baby you need to feed,” he stutters.

“What is it with you and feeding things? I mean, I do have a baby _ brother _ , but he lives with my parents. You know, because he’s six.”

“I never knew you had a brother,” he observes.

“I don’t talk about him often. He’s really sweet. Name’s Adrian,” I explain. We sit in comfortable silence for a minute.

I clear my throat. “So, um, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Not sure yet. My parents are going on a trip. Sometimes I have dinner with Scipio and his crew at the bakery, but I don’t know what I’ll do this year.”

“You should come to Feli’s house with me. You could meet my friends,” I blurt.

His lip curls. “Are you sure it’s not… too early?” he asks.

“Do you think it is?”

“No! I mean, it’s not like you just picked me up off the street, we’ve known each other for two years. I just don’t know what your friends will say.” 

I laugh. “I say this kindly, but my friends won’t give a fuck. I’m fairly sure they’ve been waiting for us to get together,” I rub my hand on the back of my neck, “You were, uh, quite a popular topic of conversation.”

“Oh, I bet.”

“You’re an asshole,” I grin.

We pull into my driveway, and there is a car there that isn’t mine. That’s Felicity’s car. I quickly pray to anyone who might be listening that she’s in the bathroom, or anywhere in the apartment without a window where the driveway is visible. I turn to Percy.

“Thank you for today. And last night,” I say.

He blushes. “It was my pleasure.”

I lean in and softly kiss him on the lips. He tilts his head with an adorable lovesick expression when I pull away, so I kiss him again, just for good measure. I step out and wave goodbye.

I watch from the window on the front door as he pulls away, then lean my back on it once he’s gone. I sigh dramatically with a smile on my face. 

“What’s got you all smiley?” Felicity says from the couch, and I jump ten feet into the air.

“Christ, Felicity! A warning would have been nice!” I scold, to which she shrugs. “And don’t pretend you weren’t watching.”

“I didn’t say I  _ wasn’t _ , I just wanted to hear it in your own words.”

I huff. “Fine! Percy and I are dating.”

“WHAT?!” she shrieks, “I thought you guys would just sleep together and go back to normal! I didn’t think you would actually  _ tell  _ him how you felt! Goddamn, now I owe Jeanne ten bucks,” she complains, looking back to her book.

“What do you mean?”

“Monty, you are the most obvious person ever when it comes to romance. Remember when you made me proofread your letters to Sinjon?” she teases.

I huff. “Felicity, why are you in my house?”

“I have a key. Also, Sim’s python got out of its tank, so she and our landlord are looking for it now. I’m sleeping on your couch tonight, by the way,” she declares.

“You know what? I don’t even care. I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late,” I shout as I walk towards my room.

“Goodnight, Monty!” she yells.

I stop in the hallway and backtrack to the living room. “Oh, by the way, Percy’s coming to Thanksgiving.”

Without even looking up from her book, she says, “I don’t care.”

“Don’t stay up all night!” I yell, to which she hums in response.

I turn the corner, enter my bedroom, and collapse onto my bed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all enjoy this fluff before shit hits the fan lolz good luck  
> leave some kudos and a comment if ye dare
> 
> enjoy !

Percy and I realize all too late that volunteering to make a dessert for Thanksgiving was not our greatest idea. It’s a bad idea because neither me nor Percy has ever baked a pie in our entire lives. I never really learned how to cook for myself. Growing up, my family’s staff wouldn’t let me within ten feet of the kitchen. They would bring our food to us, wait for us to finish, then wash the dishes and leave as fast as possible. I went to a private school for my entire life, so it seemed completely normal that everyone’s family had paid cooks. It took me until college to realize that no, that isn’t a common thing. I struggled through college on ramen and alcohol. Now, I usually just order takeout for dinner. Felicity taught herself to cook when she was fourteen, as the staff didn’t completely despise her as they did me. Maybe it’s because she was never caught with her hand up someone’s skirt on the counter. Percy knows how to make simple things, which is still better than I could ever do.

Percy has his hair tied up in a bun on the back of his head and his hoodie sleeves are rolled up as he reads over the recipe for the fifteenth time, scoffing every five minutes. “Why does it even matter if the water for the crust has ice in it?” he cries, rubbing the hand that isn’t holding the paper over his forehead in confusion. I watch as he sets the recipe on the countertop and groans. He banished me from the kitchen after I tried helping with the dough, ate a piece, and spit it on the countertop. I thought it would taste sweet or something, but no, unfinished pie crust dough tastes like straight flour. I hear him huff, then the sound of ice cascading out of the freezer. 

“Why did we agree to this again?” Percy asks, aggressively mixing the ice water into the thick mixture. I get up from the couch and join him at the countertop. 

“To be helpful? Make a good impression on the people I have known for years?” I laugh. 

He places the bowl back on the counter, scraping the excess off the spoon and setting it down. “Would it be bad to just run to the store and get a premade one?” he asks, eyes pleading.   
  


I shrug. “I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re expecting from us anyway,” I joke, to no avail.

He looks back to the recipe. “I can probably figure it out. It’ll be fine, we have until tomorrow anyway,” he mutters.

“We’re not staying up all night for a pie.”

“Well yes, but-”

“No. Go get changed and we’ll go,” I interject.

He starts chewing his bottom lip and doesn’t move, eyes still fixed on the recipe. “I don’t want them to… nevermind it’s stupid.”

I put my hand on his elbow, grabbing his attention. “No, what is it?”

He looks at me and lets out a breath. “I don’t want your friends to think I’m like, lazy or something. I told you it’s dumb.”

I tilt my head and smile at him. So  _ that’s  _ what this is all about. The thought that my friends would hate him is completely ridiculous. Sure, they hated and continue to hate Richard Peele’s guts, but Percy is nothing like him. For fuck’s sake, Johanna kicked me in the balls the first time I met her! If they keep her around after that, they surely won’t kick Percy out for existing. “They’re not going to hate you Percy. How could they?” 

“ _ You  _ did for years!” he exclaims.

I blush. I still feel pretty guilty about being such a bitch to him before. To be fair, I am a bitch to most of my coworkers, but still. My other coworkers aren’t Percy. “I thought we went over that.” I say.

He sighs again. “Sorry, I know.”

“Don’t be sorry. Do you want to try again with the crust?” 

He nods, and I rest my chin on his shoulder to look at the paper with him. I turn my head to drop a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry about it, they’ll love you,” I say, turning back towards the recipe. I can feel him smile against the side of my face.

An hour later, the pie is in the oven. It took us a bit to figure out what we needed to do, but a few youtube tutorials later, we got it. A warm pumpkin smells drifts through his apartment, and it’s especially strong in the living room where we sit watching Charlie Brown. Yes, it’s basic, yes, we have already watched it with our kids during class, but he insists that it’s a tradition. This Thanksgiving eve feels like the type that any normal family would have had every year, but my family isn’t normal in the slightest. We would eat our Thanksgiving dinner in silence, or my father would be screaming at me about a recent escapade of mine in front of everyone. In my time at Eton, the other boys would rave about how excited they were to see their aunts and uncles, but for me, holidays were the things I dreaded most all year. They were so extremely uncomfortable and terrible, after every one, I would go to a friend’s house and get absolutely blasted. My father’s consequence of choice was never worth it. 

Percy is laying sideways on the couch, back against the arm, and I’m laying on top of him. Rhiannon is sleeping in the floor ahead of us. He nudges his head into my hair and rests it there. 

“What time do we have to be there tomorrow?” he asks.

“Feli said anywhere from noon to one. I usually show around three.”

“Well, we aren’t gonna do  _ that _ ,” he laughs.

“I know, I know.”

Percy sits up straight, bringing me with him. “We should probably get to bed soon,” he notes, standing up to pull the pie out of the oven.

I slump against the arm of the couch. “Already? The earliest we can even get there is  _ noon.” _

“But we will need to wake up, get dressed, make sure everything is in its place in the morning. We can’t just wake up at eleven and hope for the best,” he shouts from the kitchen. I huff. He must hear me, because he crows, “Exactly,” in a singsong voice. I roll my eyes and shuffle into the kitchen to join him. He’s folding plastic-wrap around the fresh pie when I wrap my arms around his middle from behind. He finishes and turns around in my arms to face me. His grin is warm as he places a kiss on my forehead. It’s so nice. This physical fondness between us is something completely new to me. I’m so used to being someone’s bad decision for a night and being left in the dust the next morning. Percy could have done that too, but he didn’t. For some reason, he decided he wanted to stay, that he wanted me. I sigh and melt into him.

After brushing our teeth and getting changed, we fall into bed. Percy pulls me close to him, and I tuck my head under his chin. Our legs are tangled together and I can’t tell which two belong to me. Every day we spend together, I learn something new about him. I never knew that he hates coffee, and he only drinks tea in the morning. I’ve basically memorized how to make it just the way he likes it. I have slept at his house everyday since Sunday, only going back to my own apartment for clothes. Half of my clothes are probably at his house. I’m surprised I don’t have a drawer here already. I know he likes to sleep on the left side of the bed, closest to the wall. We fell into a basic routine of who sleeps on what side, who showers first, who makes the other a waffle that day. That’s another thing. We have waffles for breakfast every day. His waffle iron is probably the most used appliance in the entire house. 

He grunts as I drag my face out from its place on his neck to drop a kiss on his nose. He sighs and kisses me on the lips. What I think was intended to be a peck ends up going  _ far  _ past that point rather quickly, not that I am complaining. The next thing I know, he is yanking me onto his lap to eagerly kiss down my neck. I pull away from him and he lets out a petulant whine, which makes me laugh through my heavy breathing.

“Percy,” I huff, “We have to go to my sister’s tomorrow, in front of all of my friends, and they won’t leave us alone if I look like I got mauled by a bear.” I hate myself for that. I really do. I want nothing more, in the entire Goddamn world, than for him to keep going and never stop.

He blushes, embarrassed . “Right, sorry,” he says, leaning back to lay down again. I feel even worse for disappointing him than I do for stopping him in the first place.

I yank him back up. “I didn’t say you should stop completely!” I grin, and then he grins too, and I pull him into a passionate kiss.

============================================================================

The next morning, the bed is cold and empty when I wake up. I lean over the bed to look for his phone on the nightstand, or his clothes on the floor, but they’re gone. For a split second, I think he’s finally got tired of me, and left. That is, until I hear the sound of Percy bustling around the apartment preparing to leave. He must already be almost ready to leave. I groan and throw myself off the bed. I’m so tired from last night, I feel like I could easily fall back asleep on the floor. Percy comes running into the room at the loud noise and comes to kneel beside me, putting a gentle hand on my back.

“Monty, are you alright?” he asks, sounding worried.

I turn my head to glare at him, then turn it back into the carpet. “I don’t wanna go,” I whine, and I can sense him rolling his eyes.

“Alright, up you go,” he exclaims, pulling me up.

I sit up against the mattress and cross my arms. 

He smirks and leans in so close, our noses almost touch. “Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night,” he purrs, then walks into the bathroom, presumably to get dressed. “Get dressed and go brush your teeth!”

I sit on the floor and take a second to recover from  _ that _ . Seriously, how did I deserve this? This time last year, I would have been waking up in some stranger’s bed, then shuffling out of their house before they woke up. Instead I’m here, with this gorgeous man to tease me, make my knees weak, and kiss me good morning every day. 

Once I am calm enough to stand, I rummage around a pile of clothes in the corner of his room for a sweatshirt. I find one with some sort of band name on it, tug it on and trudge to the now-empty bathroom. I tug it down to inspect my neck for any visible marks. There are a couple, but they are low enough to be easily covered with a tee shirt. I sigh with relief and get the toothbrush he got me out of the holder. I smile at the thought that I now have a toothbrush specifically for nights where I stay over at Percy’s house, and that he bought it for me.

I stroll into the living room when I finish and see Percy waiting for me on the couch. He’s wearing a large maroon sweater and a pair of corduroy pants. He also opted to wear a pair of circular gold-rimmed glasses instead of his usual contacts. He has his curls tied back in a ponytail. When he sees me in the threshold to the room, he springs up, then frowns.

“You’re not dressed?”

I run a hand through my messy hair. “I just need to throw on my shirt and then we can go.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And pants,” he adds, eyes on my bare legs.

“Percy, you’re such a scandal,” I murmur to myself, walking back towards the bedroom. I kneel in front of the pile from before and look through it until I find my turtleneck and jeans. I tug them on, then halfass my hair, running a brush through it twice. I shuffle back into the living room. When I do, I notice Percy bouncing his leg and chewing his lip. I slide onto the couch beside him and put my hand on his knee. He averts his eyes.

I tilt his head up to mine. “Hey. Don’t be nervous. They’re gonna love you.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, unconvinced.

I rest my hand on the side of his face and he leans into it. “Don’t do that. I love you, and so will they.”

He smiles that beautiful smile that crinkles his eyes and makes his freckles stretch across his face. “I love you too. Are you ready to go?”

I nod. “I just have to call Feli first.”

He kisses me on the cheek, then goes back to the bedroom, leaving me alone. I wait until he’s gone to start smiling like an idiot. I can’t hold it back most times, but when I can, I do. I shake my head and call Feli. She picks up and I can hear voices screaming in the background.

“Hello dearest sister. What’s going on over there?”

I hear her yell at the others to shut up. “ _ We’re fine. Sim and Jo are playing MarioKart, and I am this close to kicking them out. What about you? Are you on your way?” _

“We’re leaving soon. Are you sure you don’t need anything before we get there?”

She takes a second to respond.  _ “I think we have everything.” _

“Okay, we’ll be there in a minute. See you then.”

She says goodbye, then hangs up. I shut my phone off and shove it in my pocket.

“Percy! Are you ready to leave?” 

  
  


============================================================================

  
  
  


We end up being the last to arrive at Felicity’s house, parking behind the other cars. Percy takes a breath and drops his head on the wheel. I feel terrible that he’s so nervous. I just want to drag him inside and shove him at my friends to get this over with. Instead, I tug on his ponytail to lift his head.

“Kinky,” he jokes.

“Not the time, darling,” I grin, “Now stop stalling. Let’s go.” 

He huffs, but shuts the car off and grabs the pie from the back seat. Just like always, he walks around to my side and opens my door for me once he gets out. It reminds me of the chauffeurs my father would hire to take me back and forth to Eton. I wasn’t allowed to ride the bus after the driver caught me and another boy together in the back. I was almost expelled. The beating I got from my father for it was one of the worst. I remember him calling me into his office and hitting me so hard my vision spun for an hour afterward. I take Percy’s hand in mine and swing it between us as we walk up the driveway. At the door, I reach to knock, but it swings open before I can. Jo is standing at the threshold. When she sees us, she gasps.

“You’re Percy right? It’s so nice to meet you!” she exclaims, pulling him into a hug. When she pulls away, she gives him a once over. “You’re so much more handsome than I thought you would be! And your hair is to die for-” 

I’m going to pass out if they all react like this.

Percy blushes and starts picking at his nails. I grab his hands when I notice, and he drops them. “Alright Jo, that’s enough,” I say, dragging Percy past her into the house. 

“Hello to you too, Monty. Prick,” she huffs, shutting the door behind us. Percy and I kick off our shoes by the entrance. The contrast between Percy’s Doc Martens and Sim’s knee-high Demonias is stark and hilarious. When he sees them, his eyes bug out of his head and he turns to me. I roll my eyes fondly and pull him into the sitting room. Everyone’s heads snap up when they see him. Sinjon and Sim are on the ground in front of the couch playing MarioKart on the TV, and Jeanne is sitting on the couch talking to James, Sinjon’s boyfriend. I have met him twice, and he seems nice. Kind of shy, though. They all wave and, in Sinjon’s case, whistle a catcall. Percy blushes and James smacks his boyfriend on the back of the head. Jeanne is the first to get up to meet Percy properly. She stands, then saunters over to him. She puts her hands on his shoulders, surveys him up and down, then turns to me with an amused grin. 

“Nice job, loser. No idea why he wants anything to do with you, but nice job,” she teases, earning a middle finger from me, then drops her arms and addresses Percy. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

He raises an eyebrow at me. That sentence is exactly what I have been dreading since I invited him. I sincerely hope everyone keeps their mouth’s shut for the rest of the night about my prior habits of complaining about him endlessly, but it’s highly unlikely they will. He’s never going to let me live it down. We have talked about it before, but he doesn’t quite know the  _ extent _ . I thought Jeanne would go further into detail, but she doesn’t. Thank any God that may be listening.

“You’re Jeanne right? I’ve heard about you too. All good things,” he says cheerily. She beams at him. He smiles back at her, then shakes her hand. As he does, she uses his hand to tug him closer to whisper something I can’t make out in his ear. He chokes on his own breath and blushes a deep red. She casually strolls back over to the couch, and plops back into her conversation. Percy picks his jaw up off the floor and turns to me.

I watch her sit back down. “What did she say?” I whisper in his direction.

Percy looks at me and blushes again. He leans into my ear, lips brushing the shell of it as he speaks. “I’ll tell you later,” he whispers, which makes me sputter. 

“Careful you two. You  _ are _ in public,” Sim warns, throwing her controller at Jeanne to continue the game and walking up to us. She nods approvingly at Percy, then grabs me by the collar. “I swear to God Monty, if you hurt him, it’s over.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be giving  _ him  _ the shovel talk?!”

She lets me go and I stumble back a bit. “I like him more than you,” she shrugs, to which I throw up my arms. “I’m Sim,” she declares. He looks a little scared, but he still nods to her with a smile and shakes her hand. 

He takes a breath and we make our way to the loveseat next to James. He shyly waves to Percy, and he waves back. Percy turns forward, facing the TV, and I lean into his side.

“That wasn’t that bad,” I whisper softly into his ear. He shifts to look at me. His face is so soft and beautiful, I just want to kiss all of the freckles off of it. I would have, probably (definitely) more than that, if we were alone. I settle for a kiss on his cheek. Sinjon turns around from the floor.

“You guys are being disgustingly sweet. It’s making us all sick,” he complains. James rolls his eyes and playfully nudges Sinjon’s head with the side of his foot. Sinjon grabs it in his hand and gives it a sharp tug so James slides a little out of his spot, which earns a little laugh from them both.

Sinjon sobers and looks at Percy. “It’s nice to finally meet you after putting up with Monty’s complaining for years,” he teases. Percy laughs at him and knocks his shoulder into mine.

“You talked about me a lot, sir,” Percy teases.

“Yeah, well,” I wave my hand at him dismissively. 

I’ll never let Percy know this, but I was also a little nervous for my friends to like him. I knew they would, but then I would remember the Dick Peele incident. The one year I brought over Richard, they didn’t say a word to him the entire time. Halfway through dinner, he pulled me outside to complain about Johanna’s cooking. He got in his car when I tried convincing him to stay, and left without saying goodbye or cleaning up his plate. I stumbled back into the house to see Johanna crying. When she saw me, she stormed into her room. Nobody talked to me for the rest of the night. After I went home, Felicity called me and told me never to bring him back around them ever again. I was so mad at him, yet I still came crawling back the moment he called. But thankfully, Percy isn’t Richard. Percy is Percy, which is something a million times better than anything Richard Peele could ever dream of being. Percy doesn’t ever need to fake kindness, that’s just the way he is. The only reason Richard even got the job at our school was because of his father. I would never think that that monster would ever willingly work with children. The only time I have ever sent one of my students down to him, she came back hysterically crying, and I never sent anyone down to the office again, no matter their behavior. I know Percy does the same.

Sinjon gives up his Wii controller, probably wanting to spend some time with his boyfriend instead of getting his ass kicked by Jeanne for the fifth time, and I take it from him eagerly. Felicity saved up to buy her Wii for an entire year, and once she got it, Sim never stopped playing. Sim and my sister don’t live together technically, but Sim is over so often, she might as well. Felicity was never one for video games, but she enjoys it as a break from studying every once in awhile. It’s completely unfair that she will not play for three months, and then she still beats my ass in any game we decide to play. I switch seats with him. Jeanne is player one, so she sets up a new round for us. We pick our players and carts, then start our race. She has the upper hand for about half of it, but her player stalls and I pass her.

“Oh my God!” she shouts. 

“It’s okay, maybe just try harder next time,” I brag. She doesn’t respond, so I follow her eyes and see the thick gray smoke billowing from the kitchen. My heart jumps into my throat as the rest of the group starts panicking. Sim and I run into the kitchen to make sure Felicity’s okay and I can hear everyone yelling after us. The smoke stings my eyes and burns my throat.

“Goddamn it!” Felicity shrieks, pulling a charred turkey out of the oven and fanning the smoke around the room. Sim sighs with relief and turns off the fire alarm before it even begins beeping. There is plenty of smoke, so I don’t know why it  _ didn’t _ go off. I have a feeling Felicity is going to have some choice words with her sleazy landlord about that. The rest of the group joins us in the kitchen. Sinjon drops his forehead on my shoulder. 

Felicity groans at the burned food. “Sorry everyone. I should have been watching the turkey closer, but I was working on the stuffing,” she gestures to a half full bowl, “I guess I ruined Thanksgiving. You might as well go home.” Johanna walks up and puts a hand on her shoulder. 

“Don’t sweat it! We can just have someone run to the store and pick something up. No one is going home,” she assures. Feli gives her a half hearted smile.

I whack Sinjon’s face off my shoulder. “Yeah, it’ll be fine! Percy and I can go get something really quick. You finish the stuffing, we will be back in a second,” I interject. Percy nods enthusiastically. 

“God, I didn’t even say hi to Percy!” she shouts, gesturing to him. Percy waves awkwardly and she facepalms. “We just need something to replace  _ this,” _ she gestures to the turkey. 

“Alright, we’ll be right back. Don’t light the place on fire while we are gone,” I joke, but nobody laughs. I put my hands up in surrender at Felicity’s less than amused expression. Percy follows me to the door and we throw on our shoes. The moment we are out of the house, Percy laughs.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “What are you on about?”

He wipes a hand over his face with a smile. “I was so nervous for a  _ week  _ over that! Your friends are literally some of the coolest people I’ve ever met.”

This prompts a laugh from me. “Are you sure we are talking about the same people?” 

He shakes his head and gives me a little shove. When we reach the car, he opens my door for me and I step in. Once we are both in and settled, he turns on his Goddamn Florence and the Machine, and we are off.

The supermarket is damn near empty when we arrive, the only occupants being the staff and us. It’s a really depressing sight, to be honest. The cashiers are slumped at their registers, looking bored and upset. I can’t blame them. I would be pretty damn pissed if I were them too. They are missing Thanksgiving dinner with their families to sit around and look miserable. I silently thank God that I never had to work retail. I never had to worry about work like everyone else, another side effect of coming from a loaded family. I don’t feel sorry for myself for growing up rich, but sometimes I wonder what a more typical American childhood would have looked like for my family. 

I nudge Percy with my elbow. “So, do you think we should get another turkey, or something already made?” I ask. 

He shrugs. "I mean, do you think your sister is up to make another turkey?" he asks.

"That, my dear, is a great question," I add.

"That's not an answer, though, now is it?"

I lightly hit his arm. "I guess we could just get a premade thing," I say. He holds my hand and starts toward the hot food isle. Once there, I look out upon the array of meals. My eyes fall upon a bunch of cooked rotisserie chickens in plastic containers, and I glance up to see Percy's doing the same. We approach the chickens and he picks one up.

"Rotisserie chickens. Those are close enough to turkey right?" he asks. "They're just smaller."

I take it from him and observe it closer, turning it around a few times. "Yeah, we should probably get a couple." I say, shoving the container back in his hand. We step closer to the display and I start stacking packages on the one he already had. Once he can't hold any more, I start grabbing them for myself. I have three in my arms as opposed to his five. Granted, his gangly arms can hold more than mine, but still. We shuffle over to the first register, careful not to drop any, and unload them onto the conveyor belt. Once they are all down, Percy stretches his arms out and groans.

"Percy?" the cashier asks. Percy's attention turns to the burly man at the register and his eyes light up.

"Scipio! I didn't know you worked here!" he exclaims. I think I remember him mentioning the name Scipio once, but I'm not sure.

"Well yes, the bakery closes at four every day. I've got to get as much work in as I can. I've got a family to feed, after all," he explains in a deep, gruff voice, ringing up the chickens as he does.

Percy turns to me with an excited expression painted on his face. "Scipio brings in boys off the street to work in the bakery. They all live in the apartment above. The youngest kid, Georgie, is eleven." I twist around to Scipio.

"That's really cool!" I beam. Scipio looks a little flustered by all the praise from us.

"Who's this Percy? You've never brought him around."

"Oh, I'm his-" I start, and Percy finishes, "My boyfriend. Monty, meet Scipio. Scipio, Monty." Scipio raises an eyebrow and reaches for my hand. I shake it, and he says "Treat him right. He's a good kid." Percy blushes and turns his eyes to the ground.

"I will, don't worry about it," I assure.

He nods and finishes ringing up our stuff and Percy swipes his card to pay. Once everything is set, Scipio rips the receipt off the register and gives it to me. I crumple it in my pocket as Percy grabs our bags from the counter, handing two off to me.

"Come by the shop one day. We haven't seen you in a while. Georgie misses you," Scipio suggests as we are getting ready to go.

"We will," Percy promises, and Scipio nods a goodbye.

Once we get to his car, we unload the bags into the backseat. Percy turns up the heat under the pretense of "keeping the chickens warm", but I know it's because he gets cold incredibly easy. It's almost comical. I'll accidentally pull the blankets off of him during the night, and he wakes up complaining about it for the entirety of breakfast. He rubs his hands together and turns the key in the ignition.

We pull up to the apartment half an hour after we leave, which is good time for us. Percy grabs the bags out of his backseat, slamming the door closed with his foot. We shuffle up the driveway and run into the house without knocking. Everyone is sitting on the floor relaxing in a semi-circle in front of the TV watching Mythbusters when we arrive home. The sound of the door opening grabs their attention to us. Sim jumps up to help Percy with the bags and they bring them to the kitchen.

"Thanks for your help with the bags, Monty, your the best," she jeers from the other room.

"Love you too, Sim!" I tease, and I can hear her huff.

Felicity is sitting on one of the dining room chairs, separated from everyone else, brooding. I step into the kitchen and grab one of the chickens out of the bag. Percy raises an eyebrow at me, but I wave him off and make my way over to Felicity. She looks up confusedly when she sees me approach.

"Hey," she mutters, averting her eyes. I crouch down next to her and hold out the chicken. She raises an eyebrow. "Monty, this is an entire rotisserie chicken."

"I know, I know. They don't sell already made turkeys at the store, we checked."

She snickers. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

I grin. "All too well," I answer, pulling her up from the chair. "Come on. We have eight rotisserie chickens with our names on them."

The rest of the group joins us at the table, finding their seats. Felicity's dining room table is small, so we had to add a folding table to the end. The first year we did this, it was because we weren't invited to dinner at my father's house. It was just me, Feli, and Jeanne. The next year, I reconnected with Sinjon and Feli met Sim and Johanna, so they joined the party. Now we have Percy and James as well. Felicity pleaded with our mother to let us take Adrian for Thanksgiving, but she was adamant that he stays with our father. I was furious. Apparently, one punching bag son wasn't enough for him, and he doesn’t even want the old one to see the shiny new replacement. When my father kicked me out, I had half an hour to gather my things and get the hell out. I stayed at Jeanne's house until I could afford to stay somewhere else. That's how I ended up on my knees begging Richard for a job at the school. He gave me it, and I began on the first day of school the following year.

We settle down around the table as Sim brings in everyone's plates. On each one is a full rotisserie chicken, a spoonful of stuffing, and a slice of the pumpkin pie Percy and I made earlier. Jeanne looks across the table to address me.

"Monty, do you really think each of us is going to eat an entire chicken?" she says, lifting the corner with her fork, "They make these for a whole family to eat, you know."

Sinjon faces me. "Yeah, how much were all of these?" he asks.

Percy walks up to the table and plops down next to me with his plate. "That doesn't matter," he states, at the same time I pull the crumpled receipt out of my pocket. I smooth it out on the corner of the table, then hold it up like a scroll.

"Eight chickens plus tax comes to around fifty dollars," I declare, then stuff it back in the pocket. Sinjon shrugs and says something to James, which makes him laugh. Sim walks in with her plate and a bottle of sparkling grape juice under her arm. We don't drink at Thanksgiving since half of us don't drink anyway. She sets down her stuff and settles in. We all pour drinks for ourselves and start slicing into our chickens.

"This is strange. For once, Monty has saved a holiday instead making us all regret inviting him," Sim says, to which Feli snickers and hits her on the arm.

"Hysterical, Sim, really," I deadpan. "May I remind you that I was here first?"

She rolls her eyes with a smirk and takes a sip of her juice.

Percy clears his throat. "Thank you for having us,"

Johanna holds her hand to her heart. "Oh, honey, thank you for coming! We've been wanting to meet you ever since Monty told us about you guys! We are all so happy for you, by the way."

"Thank you," he smiles, taking my hand in his under the table.

============================================================================

After dinner, Sinjon and James leave first because they have to go visit Sinjon's parents and have dinner with them tonight. Once they are gone, The last of us settle down in front of the TV again. Percy and I are sitting in front of the couch with Jeanne and Jo next to us and Sim and Feli up above. We all relax and talk, occasionally stopping to play a round of MarioKart. If you had told me at age sixteen that soon enough I would be here, surrounded by my family on my sister's floor, in my boyfriend's arms, I would have walked away. Sure enough, here I am. Percy stirs behind me and yawns.

I laugh. "You can't be tired already! It's only," I check my phone for the time, "Oh. It's ten-thirty. Wow," I finish. Jeanne and Jo look at each other, then to the rest of us.

"We should probably start heading out soon," Jeanne says through a sigh. Jo nods and they stand up. They slip on their shoes, Jo helping Jeanne put on her jacket afterward. We follow them up to the door to say goodbye. They hug all of us, then turn to Percy and I.

"It was great to meet you Percy," Jeanne says, to which Jo nods and smiles.

"Same to you guys," he agrees, and the girls walk out, closing the door behind them. Once they are gone, I turn towards Feli and Sim.

"We should probably get going too. It's late," I explain. Sim nods and we slip on our shoes. After, Sim walks Percy into the kitchen to grab the pie dish, talking about something I'm not paying attention to. Felicity puts her hand on my arm.

"Thank you, Monty," she says, genuinely.

"Thank  _ you _ for having us. And thanks for letting me bring Percy."

She shakes her head. "No problem. He makes you happy, doesn't he?"

I blush a little, then smile. "He really does."

"I like him, Monty. He's good."

I watch as he walks back to us with the dish. "Yeah, he really is," I grin. Percy kisses me on the cheek.

"You ready to go?" he asks. I nod, and he waves to the girls. They wave back, and we walk through the door into the chilly autumn air.

============================================================================

When we get back to Percy's apartment, I am so tired, I can barely stand up straight. The warmth of the car and the gentle hum of the tires on the street make me aware of how tired I actually am. I know he is too, because he walks in, sets the pie dish in the sink, then beelines to the bedroom. Once I catch up and join him, he is already changed and plugging in his phone on the nightstand. I rub my eyes and grab one of his sweatshirts out of the closet. When I'm changed, I turn off the lamp and basically collapse onto the bed next to him. I shift so I am able to look into his eyes through the dark. My eyes adjust, and I can make out the freckles underneath his eyes that glow soft in the dark. I smile, then run my left hand through his curls, leaving it to rest on the back of his head. He sighs and leans into the touch.

"I love you," he whispers.

"And I you, my darling."

He smirks. "I'm thankful for you, Monty," he snickers.

"Alright, you ruined it," I tease. "Good night Percy."

"Good night Monty." He gently kisses the tip of my nose, then buries his head in my shoulder. I listen to him breathe for a few minutes before falling asleep myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u liked it this chapter was fun to write so uhhhh comment and savor the domesticity whoops bye


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all ! i haven't posted in a while because no motivation and writing angst isn't fun so.... just take this now . the next chapter's fluff is an apology for the torture that u will have to endure with this one so good luck . leave kudos and a comment if ye dare i appreciate any and all feedback . 
> 
> trigger warnings in the end notes
> 
> enjoy (or try your best to whoops) !

The Friday of the week after Thanksgiving, I wake up alone in the bed in my apartment. I understand that it’s  _ technically _ my bed, but it became “the bed in my apartment” the moment I slept in Percy’s for the first time. I understand that that sounds strange, but it isn’t. It’s not lonely here. Percy and I decided that it would be best for us to stay at our own houses during the weekdays, then both stay at his house every weekend. It was a tough decision, for me at least, seeing that I got so fucking attached to his apartment in the week I spent there. We realized that, in order to get any work done, we would have to be able to properly focus. It may just be the new relationship bliss, but when we are alone at his apartment, there is no focus on anything other than each other. Not that I’m complaining, of course. This new “I can sleep at Percy’s on weekends” arrangement we’ve instituted has been a shock to my old standard weekend plans. It’s better, definitely, just different.

I rub at my eyes, rolling over to the nightstand to check my phone. Who the hell decided that schools should start so early? Really, that bastard has a special place in hell reserved for them. They must have woken up one day at seven in the morning and decided, “Oh yes, I will subject children to this misery.” Not even just children. Now that I am one, I have much more respect for all the shit teachers go through. It makes me feel guilty about being such an utter asshole to everyone at my old school. On top of having to be tolerant of our students when they are assholes, we also have to wake up at the crack of dawn every morning. I’m sure that by now Percy, the responsible bastard he is, is probably completely ready to leave for work already. That’s another thing about him. He wakes up every weekday at six in the morning using some airy Hozier song as his alarm. He just about had an aneurysm on the first workday we woke up together when he heard my obnoxiously loud, blaring alarm. If he thinks that’s bad, he should hear Felicity’s.

When I read the text notification on my screen, I realize that this day is going to suck from the moment I step out the door to the moment I slide into bed. His text simply reads, “Can you pick me up for work today?” It seems completely normal, but it’s strange for us because every day so far he has picked  _ me  _ up. The first day, he insisted that we carpool because my apartment is on his way to school anyway. I didn’t fight it, any more time I get to spend with him is a blessing, even if it’s just a quiet ride to work in the mornings. Knowing our usual plan, I assume his car is being finicky, which means we have to take it to the shop sometime before Monday. This means that instead of spending our day hanging around and being lazy, we will have to spend it at the car shop. I type out an agreement to his question to which he thanks me extensively. I roll out of bed and stumble over to my closet to grab my clothes. Once I have them, I change and brush my teeth and hair in the bathroom. The apartment is cold and empty as I step into the kitchen. I retract my previous statement about it not being lonely, because it absolutely is. I understand that I’ll see Percy in less than an hour, but I wish he could have been the first thing I saw when I woke up. I want him to be that for me all the time, not just on weekends.  _ One day, _ I think, smiling as I pull an energy drink out of the fridge. 

Pulling up to Percy’s apartment, I am surprised to see that he isn’t running out the door the moment he sees the car as he normally does when I pick him up for something. I debate honking the horn, but I think he might kill me if I do, so I decide against it. I wait a minute or two before taking my phone out of the cup holder and texting him.

**You:** where are u?

**percy <3: ** I’m coming. I’ll be out in a sec.

I nod to myself, then stick my phone back where I had it in the first place. Less than five minutes later, he comes stumbling out of the house, Rhiannon pawing at his feet. The bags under his eyes are heavy, and I wonder what he could have been doing last night, because he must have gotten no sleep whatsoever. Thankfully, my brain doesn’t have time to wander down that path, because he yanks open the door and falls in. He rubs his forehead roughly with his hand when he is settled. 

I muster up as much confidence and energy as I can to off-put the nothing that he is giving me to work with. “Good morning, darling,” I chime in hopes to make the atmosphere just a little less stiff. He mutters something in response that I can’t quite make out. “You’re gonna need to speak up,” I tease, lightheartedly.

He huffs. “I said good morning,” he snaps, then softens when he sees my hurt expression. “Sorry, I just- can we just go now?” he asks, throwing a desperate look at me.

“Of course, yeah,” I stammer, turning the key in the ignition. 

We ride in silence for about five minutes before I speak again. He’s sitting shotgun, right elbow resting on the door with the bridge of his nose squeezed between his fingers. I recognize that gesture from the many,  _ many _ times Felicity has done the same thing when she was aggravated. “Is there something bothering you?” I ask. 

He turns his head to drop it into his right hand and looks at me. “I’m just not feeling great today, that’s all. I’m sorry, but can we please just not talk? I have a headache.”

“Of course,” I say, then immediately speak again because I don’t know how to follow directions. “Do you want to call in?”

He turns his face into his palm. “If I wanted to call in, I would have done so already.”

“Oh,” I mumble, opting to leave him alone for the rest of the drive.

When we pull up to the school, I turn off the car and the uncomfortable silence becomes overwhelming as he doesn’t get out immediately. I pucker my lips awkwardly. 

I take a breath, then glance in his direction. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He turns his head to look at me with a halfhearted smile. “I’m fine. Come on, we are gonna be late,” he says. I know something is wrong, but I don’t think he’s up to talk about it, so I get out of the car and wait for him to do the same.

============================================================================

The day goes by quickly as Fridays always do, and before I know it, it’s already lunch. This week has been fairly calm seeing that everyone is still getting back into the flow of school after Thanksgiving break. 

Every day, I eat lunch in Percy’s classroom or he eats in mine. It’s nice, but the kids are often a little too observing for their own good. On Wednesday, Jemma came up before leaving to get on the bus and told me she was happy that Percy has been in a better mood lately. I played dumb and asked why she thinks so, and she replied with “I think he’s happy that you and him are such good friends now.” I know it was just supposed to be a nice thing for her to tell me, but my heart still dropped into my stomach as she said so. It’s only a matter of time until the other teachers or God forbid, Richard, catch on. We try to keep things as on the low as possible, but it’s sort of difficult when you “randomly” start eating lunch alone with the same coworker every day. Neither of us really wants to tell anyone at the school. Half of our coworkers are fifty year-old women who hate their husbands. You can never tell how those types will react to you coming out and confessing that you have been dating one of your colleagues for two weeks. I think we will eventually. I mean, you can’t keep something like this a secret  _ forever _ right? I just hope we can for a bit longer. I don’t want to have to deal with the repercussions of Richard finding out right now. I would like to just enjoy this time with my boyfriend for as long as possible while I wait for the other shoe to drop. Not my favorite train of thought. 

I bring the kids to the cafeteria, and debate going to Percy’s room on the way back. The way he’s been acting today, I assume that if he wants my company, he’ll come to me. I walk to my own empty classroom, and sure enough, around ten minutes later, Percy shows up in the doorway. He isn’t carrying his lunch though. Instead, he has his coat tucked under his arm and his bag in his hand. He looks pale and tired.

“My God, Percy, are you alright? You look terrible!” I point out, coming over to meet him at the door.

He doesn’t react as much as I thought he might. He closes his eyes tight like there is something on the tip of his tongue, and he is desperately holding back saying it. “I’m going to go home early. I already told Richard, he doesn’t care. Can you please give me a ride home?” he whispers, and it hurts so badly to see him like this. His eyes are glossy and pleading as he waits for an answer.

I put my hand on his elbow, then slide it down his arm to take his bag from his hand. “Of course I will, Perce,” I assure, grabbing my keys from my desk and rejoining him at the door. “Do you want me to go home with you?”

His face morphs into an expression I can’t quite place before going back to normal. Well, normal adjacent. He still looks as if he hasn’t slept since the dinosaurs. “No, you have work to do here.”

“I don’t care, I’ll go home if you want-”

“I don’t!” he spits, and I take a step back, hurt. He watches me do so but does nothing but look at me blankly. I try my best not to take it to heart, because he is definitely not aware of what he is doing. His eyes are unfocused and his face is expressionless. I take his arm and lead him out the front hallway briskly, as to not draw attention from students or teachers. It’s a grey and cloudy day, the clouds looking as if they could burst at any moment. I guide him to the car and he gets in gingerly, as if any sudden movement will push him over the edge. I’m not sure what “the edge” is in this case, but he is definitely trying to avoid it. I drive as carefully as I humanly can, and he leans all of this weight into the back of the seat. Seeing him like this makes me want to cry, and I don’t even know what is going on or how I can help him. He was perfectly fine yesterday. We pull up to his apartment and I walk around the side of the car to help him out. I wrap an arm around his waist and get him to the door. Percy digs around in his pocket for his keys and unlocks it. The moment the door opens, Rhiannon is at his feet, whimpering and pawing at him. He gives her a weak scratch on the head and she follows as he makes his way to the bedroom. He basically falls onto the bed, not bothering to change. What he does do is take off his tie and unbutton the top few buttons on his blouse. Once he is settled, he pulls the blanket up to his waist. He immediately looks so much calmer than he did in my classroom. I kneel next to the bed and take his hand in mine.

“Call me if you need  _ anything,  _ alright?” 

He opens his spaced-out eyes and nods weakly. I run a finger under his eye. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll be okay,” I tell him, even though I say it more for myself. I don’t think he can even understand what I’m saying. I know he’s probably just not feeling good, but something is telling me there’s more. I’ve never loved anyone like I love him. If I’m being honest, I’m scared. I know it’s dumb, but I’ve never seen someone like this. He stirs as I stand and drop a kiss on his forehead. Percy is in pain, so even though I want nothing more than to crawl beside him and dote over him as much as possible, I know I have to give him space. When I get up to leave, Rhiannon paws at the bed and looks at me. She must be worried about him too, being his best friend and all. I give her a scratch on the top of her head but she doesn’t stop pawing at the covers. I leave them to go get Percy a glass of water and as I do, I see her climb onto the bed and sit next to him. 

When I return to the bedroom with the glass, Percy is fast asleep. He has shifted so that he is laying on his left side. Rhiannon is still sitting next to him. I place the glass on the nightstand next to his phone. I dig around in the drawer for a charger and plug the phone in when I find one. The last thing I want is for him to need me and not be able to call. 

I take a lingering glance at him before I leave. Percy doesn’t look peaceful as he usually does, instead sleeping restlessly with shallow breaths. Seeing him like this, I make a mental note to savor every morning I wake up before he does and watch him sleep soundly with a smile on his face. I walk out of the bedroom and close the door behind me.

============================================================================

I end up making it back to school just before lunch ends. There is a forty-minute period for them to eat, which I would usually spend with Percy, laughing about something stupid or talking about the day. Instead, I spend the last ten minutes in my cold, empty classroom with only my thoughts to keep me company. Goddamn, I wish he would have let me leave early with him. I mean, it’s not like I am going to be able to focus on anything at all if I’m here and he’s at home in pain. I know that he is a grown man who can take care of himself, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing I was there with him. 

Once I’ve picked up the kids from the cafeteria and they are all settled in their seats, I turn to my desk computer and pull up the slideshow I have for the lesson.  _ Breathe. He’s fine,  _ I tell myself, but I know deep down I don’t believe it.

When I twist back around to start teaching, I notice Molly has her hand in the air. 

I point to her. “Yes?”

“Mr. Monty, why are you sad?” she asks.

I’m going to quit. I’m actually done. These kids are more observant than the high schoolers I have substituted for, and this was  _ not  _ in the job requirement. “I’m not sad,” I answer.

From the back of the room, Jemma pipes up. “Is it because you didn’t get to eat with Mr. Newton today?” 

My two week’s notice will be on Richard’s desk by the end of the day if they don’t drop this. I love them, but I’m on my last straw. “I don’t know what you guys are even talking about. Now pay attention,” I say in my practiced “stern teacher” voice, which settles them down enough for me to start the presentation.

The rest of the school day always tends to fly by after lunch, and once the students are dismissed for the weekend, I rush to get my things together as fast as I can. I’m surprised all of my hair hasn’t turned grey from all of the stress of today. Once I am completely ready to leave, I catch sight of Helena Robles standing in my doorway. She knocks twice on the door frame to catch my attention. I resist the overwhelming urge to push past her and run all the way home. 

“Is Percy alright? I saw he left early today and I know you two are close now,” she says.

I huff. “He’s fine. I really need to get home.”

She raises her arms in surrender. “Jesus, I was just curious. You’re not the only one who cares about him, you know.”

“Seems that way, though, doesn’t it?” I snarl. I can’t say I don’t feel  _ bad _ for being such an asshole to her, but I really do need to get home as fast as possible, so I don’t really give a shit. 

“Thanks a lot, Henry. Do you always have to be such a prick?” she huffs. I grab my bag from the desk and push past her into the hallway. I can hear her scowl as I pass, but once again, I don’t care. The only thing on my mind is getting home to Percy.

  
  


When I pull into his driveway, I snatch my bag from the front seat and slam my door shut. As I walk up to the door, I dig around in the bag for the spare key to Percy’s apartment that he gave me for emergencies. I know there isn’t  _ technically  _ an emergency, but look me in my eyes and see if I give a fuck. I open the front door quietly for fear of waking him up if he is still sleeping. The second I open it, Rhiannon runs into the living room and starts barking at me and looking to the bedroom. I drop my bag immediately and follow her. When I get to the door, I throw it open and see Percy thrashing roughly on the bed. Rhiannon runs past me and sits on the floor next to the bed. My hand flies to my mouth and I run over to kneel beside the bed with her. I can hear his teeth grinding against each other and the bed springs squealing from the movement. What feels like an eternity later, the convulsions stop. He gags and I snatch the trash can from beside the bed and shove it under his mouth as he retches. Once he finishes, I set the can next to me on the floor and take his hand in mine. 

  
  


“Oh my God, Percy, are you alright? What was that?” I cry, tears building in my eyes. His face is ashen and pale, eyes fluttering open and closed, and I know the sight of him in this state is going to live in my mind forever. I watch tears stream down his cheeks as I push his hair away from his face. “Can you speak?”

“It hurts,” he mumbles, almost too quiet for me to make out. I continue to stroke his hair as he cries, shushing him comfortingly when he whimpers from the pain. 

“Shhh, I know love, I know,” I whisper, tears now making their way down my face as well. I take the trash can and start to stand up when his hand shoots out and grabs my arm.

“Don’t go!” he pleads, eyes boring into mine.

I set the can back on the floor. On second thought, it’s probably best to keep in near him for a while, just in case. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, squeezing his hand in mine. “Can I come up there?”

He nods weakly and I climb onto the bed with him. He’s still sweaty and shaky, but I don’t care. He pulls me close, so my back is to his chest. I wait until he’s fully asleep to break down. 

I’ve never been a huge crier. My upbringing with my father taught me how to suppress everything I feel and pretend I’m fine. I’m working on unlearning everything he taught me, though. I only cry when things are really bad. Frustration is the worst trigger for it. My bottom lip quivers as I desperately try to hold everything in, but at some point, the iceberg tips. When the sobs start, I press my hand hard against my mouth to stop any sound that might wake Percy. My body jerks as I repress the sounds urging to escape. The last thing I need right now is for Percy to worry about me. He just had some sort of fit, and he needs rest more than I need to fucking cry properly. I want to crawl out of his arms and call Felicity for any kind of guidance on what the fuck to do now, but the fear of him waking up when I’m gone holds me back. The way he looked at me when he begged me to stay shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. My strong, beautiful Percy reduced to shaky tears and stuttered mumbled complaints of pain. I turn around in his arms to face him and hold him tight. As long as I can keep him here in my arms, he’ll be safe. I close my eyes in some sort of weak attempt at sleep. 

  
  


I wake up a few hours later, having not moved an inch in Percy’s arms. I open one eye and glance at the clock on the nightstand and see that it is 8 at night, meaning we slept for about five hours. I can tell almost immediately after I open my eyes that he’s awake. His breathing is weak and uneven, but he’s breathing, and that’s all that matters. I shift to look at him. He still looks miserable, but less anxious than earlier.

“Did you rest well, darling?” I stammer, trying my hardest to sound put together. The ghost of a smile passes over his lips as sighs, eyes still closed.

“I did. Everything is so sore. Thank you for staying,” he finishes.

I lift my head from his shoulder and shift so that we are looking into each other's eyes. “As if you’re ever going to get rid of me.”

He smiles in earnest this time. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I take a breath. “Can I ask you something?”

He weakly links his fingers through mine beneath the covers. “What is it?”

“What- did you know that was gonna happen?” I ask. 

He squeezes his eyes tight. “I was going to tell you eventually. I was just waiting for the right time and-”

I pull back a little and my eyebrows furrow. “Tell me what? Percy, what’s going on?”

He bites his bottom lip. “I have epilepsy.”

I sigh with relief. Epilepsy, you can’t die from that right? I don’t think you can. I’m adding that to the list of things I need to rant to Feli about later. “Oh, thank God, I thought it was something bad,” I breathe.

Percy stiffens in my arms. “You thought it was something bad? It’s not exactly a cakewalk, you know,” he says aggravatedly. It’s clear this is a common thing people say to him. It’s also very clear that he wants to dropkick everyone who does.

My brain is screaming at me,  _ don’t screw this up!  _ “No, that’s not what I,” I run a hand through my hair on reflex, “I just meant, I thought you were going to tell me you had some sort of brain-eating disease and that you had four days to live or something.”

He softens. “No, it’s nothing like that. I have fits every couple of months. I take medication for it, and I can usually tell when I’m going to have one, but I can’t stop them. Rhiannon is trained to help when I have one.” 

“Oh,” I blurt.  _ Real smooth, now you sound like an asshole. _

He raises an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“I- I’m sorry. Is that why you were so sick today?” I ask. He nods, and I continue, “Why didn’t you just tell me before?”

“I was going to tell you but I didn’t want you to try and go home with me because Richard would catch on and-”

I squeeze his hand to stop the babbling. “Thank you for telling me now,” I interrupt. 

“I know I probably should have said something sooner. I just-”

I press my forehead to his. “Stop apologizing.” He kisses me gently on the lips. “Are you hungry?”

He glances over his shoulder at the garbage can. “I don’t know what I’ll be able to hold down right now.”

“Oh, okay. Um, toast?”

He nods. I kiss him on the nose and get out of the bed, stretching my back out with a yawn. I pick up the can from beside the bed and make my way to the door. Percy pulls the blanket back over himself and tucks his head into the pillow. I stand at the door and watch for just a moment, then close it quietly behind me. I walk to the bathroom and dump the contents of the trash into the bathtub, leaving some water in to let it soak. I don’t know the logistics of sanitizing a bucket that has just been thrown up in, but soaking it has to help  _ somehow. _ I shut the door and wipe the water on my hands off on my pants.

Once I get into the kitchen, I set my phone on the countertop and dial Felicity. She picks up on the third ring while I’m getting the bread out of its bag.

“Hello?” she answers. I spare a glance back toward the bedroom. I don’t exactly want him to hear this enter conversation so I pick the phone off of the counter and put it to my ear, holding it with my shoulder. I throw the bread slices in the toaster.

“Percy has epilepsy,” I blurt. I hear her drop the phone, swear, then pick it back up.

“What? How do you know? If this is a joke-”

I inhale sharply and brace myself on the counter with straight arms. “It’s not. He was feeling sick all day and I came home to him having a seizure on the bed, so no, it’s not a joke,” I snap.

“Oh my God Monty, I’m so sorry,” she says shakily. I know she is worried about him too. “Is he alright?”

I pop the toast out of the toaster a couple of seconds before it’s done so that the little bell doesn’t sound. “He’s saying it hurts, and he threw up earlier, but other than that, I think he’s okay,” I gulp, looking back towards the bedroom as if I could see him through the walls.

She stays silent for a second. “How are  _ you _ doing with this?”

“I’m-” I start, not knowing how to finish the sentence. I know it’s not about me, I  _ understand  _ that. And I swear I am fully prepared to pretend that this isn’t affecting me, but the dam breaks. “I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t even know exactly what epilepsy _ is _ .” I gasp, having run out of air. “ I don’t know if one day I’m going to come home and he’ll be gone because I never knew the right thing to do,” I finish.  _ Do not start crying again. This isn’t about you. _

  
  


I hear her take a breath on the other end. “I’m not an expert on epilepsy, but we went over it briefly in my classes. It’s normal to be sore and a lot of people end up vomiting after seizures. You didn’t know. Just try your best to listen to what he says about it. We can’t all be experts on random things we never knew we would need to know about.” I bite my lip hard and push down the lump in my throat.

“Thank you. We will never speak of this ever again,” I say, failing in an attempt to lighten up the conversation.

“Don’t be an idiot. Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay, thank you,” I finish, hanging up the phone. I take the paper plate with the toast off the counter and walk toward the bedroom. I knock softly on the door before I enter to make sure Percy isn’t startled. I don’t know what triggers a seizure, but I will do anything to make sure it’s not something I do. When I walk in, the light of the hallway shows he is still laying down, but he’s awake. When he hears me padding towards him, he sits up and clicks on the lamp with a wince.

“Careful there,” I tell him, setting the toast plate on his lap. He stretches out his arms wearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. I sit on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on his leg. He breaks one of the pieces in half and brings one to his mouth. I realize I’m staring at him when he looks at me uncomfortably while he chews. I avert my eyes. “Sorry.”

He sets the toast back on the plate and swallows. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I twist my head to look back at him. “Don’t worry about me. How are you feeling?”

He huffs through his nose. “Monty…” 

“I’m fine! Perfect, really. Now, are you doing alright? Do you need any-”

“Monty, do you remember what I said when we first got together?” he interrupts.

“I believe it was something about how gorgeous I am,” I joke, which falls on very deaf and agitated ears.

He breathes sharply out of his nose. “I told you to be honest with me. Me having this condition and you knowing about it shouldn’t mean you have a reason to avoid everything I ask. You don’t get to deflect questions you don’t want to answer by worrying about me. Now, tell me what’s wrong,” he finishes. I’m glad he’s telling me how he feels, but I don’t think I was fully prepared for what he had to say. I wish I could just say, “My family taught me not to feel and if I did, to ignore it, so being encouraged to voice my emotions is new and different and I don’t know how to do it.” Percy grew up with two loving parents who let him be himself no matter what, so communicating is and has always been easier for him. I’m working on mine, but I’ve found that unlearning everything that I’ve ever known is actually really Goddamn hard. Who would have thought.

I take a deep breath. I close my eyes before I speak to avoid seeing what I’m sure will be some negative emotion written on his face. “It’s nothing really. I’m just- I don’t know what to do for you, Perce,” I gulp. I’m tempted to end my statement right there, but my tongue disobeys my brain, as it often does, and continues for me. “I don’t know anything about epilepsy or seizures. I don’t know what to do if I’m there while you have one. I don’t know how to tell you what I’m feeling. I don’t know how to help,” I stop and take a breath. “And I’m afraid you’re going to move on to find someone who does,” I mutter, voice shaking. He doesn’t respond, so I glance up to see what he is doing. I can see his eyes glisten in the lamplight with tears unshed. I really don’t feel like crying again today, I am already so Goddamn tired.

He grabs my hand and pulls it to rest on his lap. “Monty, I’m not going to leave you. Now, or ever. Especially not for something so trivial. You would have to do something seriously fucked up for me to even consider it. I know you have trouble with talking about things sometimes, but we are going to work on it together,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my hand. “If you ever have a question about my condition,” he tilts my face up to his, “Just ask.”

The way he looks into my eyes is so tender and honest, it makes me want to cry, which is something very new. Wanting to cry because something makes you happy shouldn’t be a thing. I am too happy too often to cry every time I am. “I wish you weren’t so sore.”

He snaps out of it and looks genuinely confused. “Why is that?”

“Because if you weren’t, I would be mauling you right now.” 

He giggles and sits back against the bed frame. “My God, you really are shameless,” he laughs, “Come here.” He outstretches his left arm, then drops it down when I get off the bed and walk to the closet. “Really?” he mutters under his breath.

I grab a sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shorts off the shelf. “Yes, really. You’ve been wearing the same clothes all day, and you probably smell,” I tease, throwing the clothes on the bed. “Do you need help changing?”

He chews his lip. “I think I’ll be fine, it’s just going to hurt like a bitch.”

“Well, I can help with your shirt so that you don’t have to unbutton it. Good choice not wearing something you have to lift over your head, by the way.”

He deadpans. “I try.”

I walk over to the bed as Percy sits up. I stand in front of him and start working on the buttons down his shirt. And yes, I would be lying if I said I didn’t let my fingers linger on each one as I undid them. Sue me. Once all the buttons are done, I slide the blouse off his shoulders, ball it up, then throw it onto the laundry pile on the other side of the room.  _ We really need a basket for this,  _ I think. Loving him has made me so soft that I now get excited about the thought of us having a combined laundry basket. It’s literally just dirty clothes, for God’s sake. When I turn back towards him, he’s looking up at me with his big, round doe eyes. I tilt his head up with my finger and lean down for a soft kiss. I truly had no other choice. I step back a little, running my hands down his arms until they reach his hands and look at him.

“You’re so pretty Percy,” I murmur, eyes fixed on his light brown skin and the way his collar bones bow into his chest like the curves on a violin. I see a red blush form on his face and creep down his neck. He bites his lip to try and conceal his smile, but it spreads across his cheeks, crinkling his nose and folding the freckles beneath his eyes. I smile myself and hand him the sweatshirt.

After Percy is completely done changing into his pajamas, I throw on some of my own. Once everything is done and we’re completely ready, we settle into bed. Before I turn off the bedside lamp, I spare a look over at him. He is laying on his side, head on his hands stacked in a praying position. He’s gazing up at me again with the big eyes, presumably waiting for me to turn off the light. I lower myself to kiss him first on the lips, then on the forehead. He hums tiredly when I pull away. 

“I have the bucket right next to me on the floor. If you need it during the night, either just push me off the bed, or ask me and I will get it for you,” I say, to which he nods, “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

He smirks. “What I _ need  _ you to do, is turn the damn light off and get over here.” I roll my eyes fondly and click the lamp off. I slide into his outstretched arms and he pulls me closer with a groan. I feel him run his fingers through my hair lazily, my head tucked in his shoulder.

He gulps. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’re the only other person besides my parents who has ever stayed with me during a fit,” he whispers, still carding fingers through my hair. I shift my head to drop a kiss on the spot where his neck connects to his shoulder.

“And I’ll never leave you, my dear.”

He stops moving his hand to cup the back of my head in his palm. “I know you won’t. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:
> 
> character has a seizure  
> there is a non graphic part where a character throws up
> 
> i hope u enjoyed this garbage uhhh next chapter is christmas and v fluffy so it will be up b4 then ... leave kudos and a comment if u want to
> 
> see ya later!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s christmas and the boys are- well, the boys are themselves .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all ! um this one is kind of a fucking monster . it was supposed to be 6k like always but i couldn’t stop writing so it’s 11k instead . whoops . PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS GIVE ME VALIDATION (comment or kudos lmao) 
> 
> enjoy and happy holidays !!

Percy has his holiday concert at school tonight, and I have to say, laying on his bed watching him get changed for it is a great start to my concert experience. I know that he knows that I’m watching him by the way he’s purposely teasing me. Really, it doesn’t take that long to stretch your arms out before putting on a shirt. Not that I’m complaining, I’m definitely not. The problem is that I can’t even do anything about it, because if the parents, or God forbid, any of our coworkers, saw any evidence of what I did, we would both be screwed over. It’s not a surprise to me that all of the moms and probably even some of the dads pine over Percy. I don’t blame them. He’s young and extremely attractive, if I do say so myself. It’s not like they know we’re together, but there would be a whole new meaning to the word “scandal” if you hooked up with your child’s twenty-something music teacher as a married forty-year-old.

_Good thing I don’t have to worry about that,_ I think as I hop off the bed and slink over to him in front of the mirror. He’s fixing his tie as I slide my arms around his waist and start pressing little kisses to his neck from behind. He puts his hands over mine where they rest on his stomach, running his thumb over my fingers. He looks fondly at our reflection in the mirror. I look over too, standing up on my tiptoes to hook my chin over his shoulder.

He squints his eyes at our reflection with a grin. “We look nice,” he muses.

“Darling, I think you mean _you_ look good. I look like a trainwreck,” I counter.

“I don’t think so,” he says genuinely, then taps a finger on his chin, teasing. He quickly turns in my arms to face me with a devilish grin. “But perhaps that means you should get changed then, doesn’t it?”

“Possibly,” I tease. He smiles and kisses me softly. Out of pure spite, I shrug and kiss him just as soft. When I pull away, he gently grabs my chin and guides my lips to his once again. I know the intention of the action was simply just a peck, but I’m far too petulant for my own good, so I bite his lower lip. 

He lightly pushes me away the second I do. “Not now, you fool. Later, maybe, but not now,” he considers, then walks off to the bathroom.

“Hey! You better keep that promise, you tease!” I yell. “You started this!”

I hear him cackle from the hallway. “Get changed!” he shouts back. I roll my eyes fondly and mutter a curse under my breath, moving over to the closet.

I finish changing and join Percy at the bathroom sink. He’s messing around with his hair, pulling it back into a ponytail with his hands, then dropping it. He hears me coming but doesn’t look over, fixated on his hair. He drops the bunch of curls he was holding and huffs.

“Are you done chang-” he starts, cutting off when he looks over. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I lean against the sink, teasing, as I wait for him to compose himself. He closes his mouth to swallow, then lets it drop back open. 

“What is it? See something you like?” I prod. Percy gets flustered often, and it’s my favorite thing. The first time it happened, my personal mission to get him as flustered as possible as often as possible began. 

He shakes his head. “No,” he starts, defensively, then shakes his head. “Wait, I mean yes, I do.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m confused. Which is it?”

“I do, but I always-” he cuts off, rubbing his hand over his face with a groan. “Leave me alone,” he says when I giggle.

“I’m just wondering where all that confidence from earlier went, that’s all,” I say, throwing my hands up. 

“Earlier you didn’t look like,” he gestures wildly to my outfit, “ _that._ ”

I nod slowly. “So what you’re saying is that I didn’t look good earlier. Oh, I see. I might as well start packing my things now.”

He rolls his eyes, bending over to grab a hair tie out of the drawer. When he straightens, he flicks me on the forehead. “You’re a prick.” He turns to the mirror, gathering his hair to the back of his head. “I’m saying that you look very good now, not that you didn’t before. Happy?” he asks, leaning a hand against the sink and turning to face me. 

I pull two curls out of the knot to frame his face. “Extremely, my darling,” I answer. I jump up to kiss him first on the cheek, then on the lips. “If you’re done, get out of my way.”

He puts his hands on my hips and slides past me. “I think you’re forgetting that this is _my_ house,” he yells from the hallway as I take my eyeliner out of the drawer.

I wave my hand flippantly even though he won’t be able to see it. “Yeah, well,” I dismiss, bringing the brown tube to my eye.

============================================================================

When we arrive at the school, we walk through the parking lot with linked pinkies. The winter chill makes it so that the exhaust from the cars creates a smoky mist throughout the lot. It’s a dark, cloudless evening. Snow falls serenely, dusting our heads and the hoods of the cars. I take note of how the white flakes contrast Percy’s dark curls as they land on his head. We eventually make it to the door at the west wing of the school, closest to his classroom and farthest from the auditorium. The moment we step through the door, we separate our hands. 

It has been getting progressively harder to keep our relationship a secret at work. Obviously, we have to, but it’s still difficult. A lot of things we do subconsciously as a couple are completely off-limits as long as Richard could easily walk in and catch us. Stupid little things like holding hands and kisses on the cheek as goodbye simply can’t be done. We learned that the hard way during the first week we were dating, when we were eating lunch in Percy’s classroom. We were holding hands across the desk as we absentmindedly scrolled on our phones, just enjoying each other’s presence. Richard opened the door without warning and I retracted my hand so fast, I hit my elbow on the chair hard enough to leave a bruise that lasted for a week and a half. Drop a coin into the “ _I fucking hate Richard Peele_ ” jar. So yeah, no more being affectionate at work. 

He turns to me and sighs sharply through his mouth. Even before I fell in love with him and started paying attention to every goddamn thing he does, I noticed how nervous he gets before performances. I place a hand on both of his arms. “You’ll be fine. You’ve done this a million times,” I grin. 

Percy gives me a lopsided smile. “I wish I could kiss you right now,” he says, loud enough for only me to hear. I look both ways down the hallway for anyone who might be lurking, then press a quick kiss to his cheek when I know nobody can see. When I pull back, he is staring at me with wide eyes and I wink. He checks the hallway for himself, then grabs the back of my neck and tugs me into a kiss. My eyes bug for a second until I lean into it. I pull back after a second and pat his arm.

“You got this,” I say, sincerely.

“Yeah, I do!” he exclaims.

I beam at him. “Yes, you do!” I cheer.

He grabs my shoulders without even bothering to look at pulls me into a kiss. I know it’s a bad idea to be doing this here, but it’s an empty hallway and I don’t care. He pulls back with a bright smile.

I shoo him away with my hands. “Go, you have a show to put on.”

He comes down from his excitement for a moment. “Alright, I love you,” he says.

“I love you too, now go,” I tell him, and he takes off down the hallway toward his classroom. I stand there lovestruck for a minute, then start toward the auditorium to find a seat.

The auditorium is still fairly empty when I finally get there. I stroll down the steps to the lower level of seats to find an open one close to the stage. It seems as if everyone else had the same idea, because this section is almost full. I can see a couple empty chairs, but most are clearly being saved. One of the last open ones is next to two younger looking women. They are laughing over something on a phone. When they see me at the end of the row, they stand to let me through. When I settle down, I realize that they’re related one of my students.

The woman directly to my right recognizes me first. She has long blonde curls, as opposed to her companion’s straight brown hair. She clicks her tongue and smiles politely. “You’re Mr. Monty right? I’m Jane,” she gestures to the woman to her right, “and this is Lauren. We’re here with Molly,” she says. 

I remember them now. I met them at the open house earlier this year. I believe the blonde is her mom and the other is her aunt? I don’t know exactly. I hold out my hand for Jane to shake. “Just Monty is fine. It’s nice to see you again,” I hold my hand out to Lauren, “Molly is such a sweetheart.”

Jane puts a hand on her heart. “Thank you so much! She talks about class all the time. You are such a great teacher.”

Lauren leans over. “Yeah, every day after school she has a new story to tell. It’s funny to listen to her ramble.”

I laugh. “I mean, I spend every day in a room filled with seven year olds. The stories basically write themselves,” I add.

The girls look at each other. “It’s nice to see you here supporting the kids,” Jane says. 

Lauren rolls her eyes. “Yeah, definitely. I haven’t seen a single other teacher here. I know they aren’t obligated to come, but it’s still nice, you know?”

I agree completely. I have always come to my students’ concerts, especially the big ones. I try my best to make sure there are no homework assignments on performance days. When I was young, my mother forced me into the choir, yet she only showed up to one of my many concerts. In the beginning, I was upset that she didn’t want to come. The more common it got I began to understand that the only reason she wanted me in the chorus in the first place was so that she wasn’t the odd one out in her friend group. The only person I could count on to be there was my English teacher. After every performance, she would come congratulate us.

“Yeah, I get that,” I agree. They glance at each other again, and it looks like they are conveying a thought with their eyes alone. I wonder if Percy and I ever seem that way. 

Lauren leans forward again. “She talks a lot about how you and Mr. Newton have spent a lot of time together recently.”

Jane drops her chin to her fist. “Yeah, you two sound very close, from what we have heard.”

I really don’t want to be having this conversation right now. I could just tell them to fuck off and mind their own business, but I don’t want to. What I _want_ to do is come right out and tell them about Percy and I, but I can’t risk them telling someone about it. “We’re friends, that’s all,” I stutter. If Percy were here, he could have taken care of this in ten seconds.

“That’s great for you guys,” Jane says. Both of them lean back in their chairs properly and strike up a conversation between themselves. I turn forward and try my hardest to stop thinking about it. I’m successful for all of five minutes, before I tap Jane on the shoulder.

“I lied, we aren’t actually friends,” I admit.

Lauren looks toward the stage, then back. “Oh, we’re sorry to hear-” 

“We’ve been dating for about a month now,” I interrupt. Their reactions are, not what I expected, to say the least. Jane gasps and claps her hands together while Lauren pumps her fist in the air.

“I _knew_ it!” Lauren exclaims. Jane laughs and puts a hand on her arm to steel her.

Jane faces me with a bright smile. “That’s wonderful to hear. Really, congratulations to you both.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s… thank you? Sorry, that is _not_ what I expected you to say.”

Lauren grins and puts a hand on Jane’s leg. “Monty, you know we’re married, right?” she asks. Jane holds up her hand to display the ring on her finger.

My eyes widen. “Oh- that’s, oh,” I trail off. Everything I know about them makes a lot more sense when you take into account that they are married. 

Jane laughs. “It’s really wonderful that you and Mr. Newton got together. All that bickering at open house made it a little obvious,” she notes.

Now _that_ is embarrassing. Being told by a student’s parents that your crush on a coworker was obvious when you were too oblivious to even realize you had one is mortifying. I would not wish that on my worst enemy. Unless it’s Richard. 

Scratch that, I absolutely wish it on Richard.

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” I joke.

Lauren barks out a laugh. “But you know it’s true.”

I turn forward. “No comment.” They chuckle, then face the stage as the lights turn off.

The kids file onto their risers in a practiced fashion that I’m sure Percy had to go over with them a million times. Once they are in their assigned spots, all of the parents raise their cameras and try to get their child’s attention. I know how much Percy hates when they do that, because of how much he has to bash the fact that you can’t wave to your parents on stage into their heads. Percy joins them at a podium set up in front and grabs the microphone. He says some sort of introduction, welcoming everyone to the concert and going over procedure or whatever. I could have sworn all of this was arranged to be _Richard’s_ job, but I’m not surprised in the slightest that he didn’t show. It makes me so angry that he does nothing but criticize Percy’s teaching, then doesn’t even attempt to be involved with anything around the school. It's eight on a Friday night, so he is probably already wasted. I realize that I’ve subconsciously been clenching my fists and I relax them as soon as I do. The choir starts singing, and they’re about as good as you would expect for fifty seven year olds. Percy is waving his hands around to help them stay on track, even though I’m sure a very small amount of them actually know what the movements mean in the first place. Percy always has so much faith in his kid’s intelligence, but at some point you have to draw the line. He got annoyed the other day at his class not knowing what a B flat sounded like by ear. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I don’t even know what a B flat is, let alone what it sounds like.

The chorus finishes their last song about forty-five minutes later. It’s a short concert, but it goes exactly as planned. Percy lowers his hands and claps for the performance as the kids do an awkward synchronous bow. He twists around to face the audience to do a bow of his own. Lauren and Jane start cheering like crazy people, which makes him laugh. Although I can’t hear it over the applause, I know it’s the bright, loud kind of laugh that only comes out when he’s really happy. Our eyes lock and I smile, giving him a thumbs up from my seat. He blushes and smiles wider. He waits for the applause to die down before picking up the mic and thanking everyone for coming, wishing them happy holidays. Everyone exits off the stage and the lights come back up. Lauren grabs her and her wife’s things off the floor.

They stand and turn to me. “Well, it was wonderful talking to you,” Jane muses, taking Lauren’s hand.

I stand as well. “Definitely. Tell Molly she did a wonderful job.” 

Two twin smiles spring up on their faces. “She will love to hear that. We have to go pick her up from the classroom, but it’s been fun,” she finishes. I wave and Lauren nods her head toward the door. I watch as they leave, then pull out my phone when it vibrates.

jeanne the queen: how was the concert? tell percy i said hi btw

You: it was good. they did a great job

jeanne the queen: i love kids sm omg

You: im aware

jeanne the queen: lose the attitude or ur not getting ur present

I smile down at the screen, then turn it off and stuff it back in my pocket. By the time I’m done, the entire auditorium is empty except for me. I take that as my cue to start making my way to Percy’s classroom. The hallways are empty as I walk through them. It’s extremely strange being here so late that there is nobody around. Even when I do show up to after school events, I always tend to leave as soon as they are over. I _used_ to be in a rush to get to whatever bar I decided on that night, but nowadays it’s more of a rush to get a bag packed for the weekend, then get over to Percy’s house as soon as possible. Needless to say, Friday nights are much more fun now. When I arrive at his door, I knock on it first, even though I know he’s in there alone.

He comes to the door and opens it for me. The moment he does, I shove him inside, shutting the door behind me with a kick. “Hey! What’s going-” he starts, but I interrupt by pushing myself forward and kissing him hard on the lips. He stays still for a moment, then he leans into it, holding my hips tight. 

I lean back an inch so my lips brush his when I speak. “I seem to remember you making a certain promise earlier,” I breathe, looking at him through my lashes. He pulls back all the way and laughs. I stand there shocked before melting into annoyance. Another new thing I’ve discovered while being with Percy, my natural God-given charms do not work on everyone. Not always, anyway, because I can recall a few notable times where they have worked wonderfully on Percy. 

“A promise,” he laughs, “That is _definitely_ not being fulfilled in my classroom.”

“Well, it’s Christmas break, so you aren’t technically a teacher again until January second. So that means, this isn’t _your_ classroom because you’re not a teacher right now,” I huff.

He raises an eyebrow. “That’s… definitely a stretch.”

“And yet, somehow, I don’t care!”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Keep being a brat and you won’t get _any_ tonight.”

I purse my lips. “ _That_ is not fair in the slightest.”

He laughs again. “How is it not fair?”

“Well,” I gesture to the air, ”The fact that this is your classroom has already cockblocked me once, so you aren’t allowed to do it again.”

“You’re hopeless,” he laughs.

“You love me anyway.”

He wraps his long arms around my torso and nuzzles his face into my shoulder. “That, I do.”

============================================================================

We lie in his bed after, just relaxing and holding each other in a comfortable silence. My head rests on Percy's chest and he rubs his thumb in mindless circles on my shoulder. He moves his hand up to my head, stroking my hair gently. The stark contrast between Richard’s bruising grips and Percy’s tender caresses still gives me whiplash every time Percy touches me. He’s careful, like I’m some sort of precious, ancient artifact, so fragile it could crack under too much pressure. He looks at me like he wants to put me in a museum. Like I deserve to be preserved, to be cared for with gentle fingers, and admired by the crowds. It’s hard to understand why he thinks that way, until he _shows_ me why. He drops a kiss to the crown of my head. 

I feel like I need to tell him that I told Molly’s moms about us, but laying here with him is so nice, I don’t want to ruin it if he gets mad. I don’t think he will, but we were pretty clear about not telling _anyone_ at school. I’m fairly sure they won’t tell anyone, but you never know.

“What are you thinking about?” Percy whispers, effectively wrecking my train of thought.

I twist my body to stack my hands on his bare chest and drop my chin onto them. “Don’t be mad.”

Percy sets his hand on my back and smiles. “Go for it.”

Seeing the love written all over his face as he gazes down at me gives me a bit more courage. “I’ve kind of…” I trail off.

He pushes my hair away from my forehead. _Goddamn._ I squeeze my eyes shut. “I told Molly’s moms about us. Our relationship,” I blurt. At the lack of response, I open one of my eyes and peek at him. He’s grinning like a fool, and his eyes show it too.

“I know.”

I tilt my head. “You know? How the hell did you know?!” I shout, then laugh, relieved that he’s not angry at me. Although, I should probably know by now that angering him requires a godly amount of effort. Really, after all of the dumb shit I’ve pulled, it was a shock that he didn’t throw me already. Though, I was quick to realize that that’s not Percy. Percy is the type to sweep up the glass if you dropped it, instead of berating you on your own stupidity, like some of my other roommates. 

“They had to come pick up Molly from my room, and I got sufficiently congratulated on our relationship. Did you tell them to do that? Because it was mortifying, and if you did, I’ll never forgive you,” he teases, tickling my back as he finishes his thought, which makes me squirm and laugh even more.

“No, I didn’t tell them to do that, actually,” I begin, lightly slapping his chest. “Did they do it in front of Molly? Because she’s a talker.”

“No, no, the kids were across the room hanging out on the rug. We’re fine.”

“Good. They basically grilled it out of me. Something about how all my bickering was ‘obvious’, or something.” 

“ _I_ didn’t notice,” he refutes with a grin.

“No shit,” I say, looking up at him through my lashes. He runs his fingers through my hand and I close my eyes with a satisfied hum. I could write sonnets about Percy’s hands. He’s got the long, slender fingers that all musicians do. Every time he touches me with them, symphonies play and the angels sing. Everything about him is so _pretty._ He has these perfectly coiled curls that sit perfectly on his shoulders, which are also perfect. _He’s_ perfect. Everything about him. 

“Would you like to know something funny?” he asks. I open my eyes halfway and raise an eyebrow. “I was worried they had figured it out on their own, and I was planning on telling you tomorrow. So there is good to come out of this,” he continues. Always the positive thinker.

“What’s good about it?”

He shrugs. “No potentially awkward breakfast conversation.”

“That is a very good thing,” I note, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. The bright red letters indicate that it’s just after midnight. I drop my face onto my stacked hands and groan. I hear him shift, probably looking at the clock himself. “Shouldn’t we have just gone to sleep straight after? Isn’t that what most people do?”

“I don’t exactly _know_ what most people do.”

My face goes red and I feel the blush shoot down my neck as well. It’s _extremely_ difficult to remember that I was indeed Percy’s first, and only, because of how skilled he is. It’s seriously not fair. _My_ first time, I was a bumbling fool. The girl I was with, Amelia, basically did all the work. It was memorable, but not in the way you would hope. “Oh shit, I forgot, um-”

He gives my hair a little tug to get me to look up. “It’s fine, darling. I’m just kidding.”

I move myself up towards the pillows and lay down to face him. He reaches around me and clicks off the bedside lamp. I roll my eyes in the dark. “I could have done that.”

My eyes are adjusted just enough to see him shrug his shoulders. “I know.”

“I love you,” I whisper. He leans forward and kisses me kindly. 

“I love you too,” he breathes against my lips. I move in and kiss him again, just for good measure. And then again, and again, and again. Because I can, and I feel like I’ll be able to for a while, so there’s no rush. 

============================================================================

Percy and I have never been wonderful at time management. We are late to everything except work, especially when I drive. We burn food so often, it is basically standard for us to get takeout for dinner at least once a weekend. Wrapping presents the day before Christmas Eve however, is a new low. We are sitting in front of the couch in Percy’s living room watching Elf, per his request, and wrapping the stack of presents we were supposed to have done last week. Yes, it’s eleven at night, but we are too hopped up on hot chocolate to stop now. We can’t really stop anyway, seeing that we have to be at his parents’ house tomorrow evening and at this rate, we aren’t going to be done wrapping until the early hours of the morning. He finished the pile for his parents a while ago, so now he’s helping me with my friends’ stack. I usually get them plenty of gifts for putting up with me all year, and this year is no exception. His tongue is sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he centers the box for Felicity’s sweater on the wrapping paper square he cut. 

I grab my mug off the floor and take a sip of the lukewarm hot chocolate. “You know, it may have been easier if you had centered the box while the paper was still on the roll so you could have made sure you had enough,” I suggest, peering at him over the mug as I take another sip.

He sits back and sucks his teeth. “Yeah, well, there’s no going back now, is there?” he teases.

I throw my hands up in surrender, almost knocking the cocoa all over the carpet. “Hey, don’t get snippy with me, sir.”

“You almost knocked that all over me!” he cries, gesturing to the mug.

I look down at the mess of wrapping paper on the floor and bare gifts on the floor. The “done” pile is significantly shorter than the “to be wrapped pile”. It is very possible that this is because we started this effort an hour ago. Don’t get me wrong, I have had the gifts ready to be wrapped for weeks; I am just a lazy bastard. I know this, and I’m not ashamed. If I can get things done on time, it doesn’t matter _when_ they get done, as long as it’s before the deadline. 

“What time do we have to be there by?” I ask. Percy’s mom called earlier this week and asked if he was planning to bring anyone to their family Christmas. Of course, he decided the most stressful time of the year would be the perfect time to bring _me_ over to ruin yet another holiday. Seriously, I’m not sure why they want me there.

He shrugs. “Mama said six.”

“Okay. Hey, why did they want you to bring me?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes, then focuses on the present he’s working on. “Oh my God, they’ve been on my ass about it for years,” he straightens, doing an impression of his mother, “It’s always ‘Percy, when are you ever gonna bring a nice boy home to us? You must have one by now, no?’” he says, holding out his hand for a piece of tape. I rip it off the roll and stick it on his finger. “Really, how am I supposed to tell them that I’ve never been in a real relationship before now? My mom just about hit the ceiling when I told her I would bring you. Don’t mess this up for them,” he jokes, but my laugh is unenthusiastic. He’s basically just confirmed everything I’ve been worrying about since he got the call. I have never met the parents of anyone I’m with. I’ve had other relationships, but they have never gotten this far.

“I’ll try my best,” I answer, keeping my eyes on the present I’m wrapping. 

“They’re going to love you so much,” he laughs to himself, completely genuine.

I glance up at him, more nervous this time. “And if they don’t?”

He throws me a lopsided smile. “Monty, they will. You don’t even need to worry about that.”

I crawl over to kneel next to him and kiss his cheek. He gently pushes me back. “This is the second time you’ve almost spilled my cocoa in the past ten minutes, you leech,” he teases, gesturing to his black and red plaid pajama pants that he wears all the time. I got him another pair for Christmas, but I’m not sure if the appeal of the ones he has now is some sort of attachment, or something. Oh well, he won’t be able to tell the difference between the new ones I got him and the pair he has now, seeing that they’re identical. He picks the mug up and places it on the table next to the couch. He twists over and pulls me into his lap.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, so _I’m_ the leech. Makes sense.”

“I can put you down,” he shrugs.

“Well, that’s not necessary.”

“Exactly,” he laughs, arching up to kiss me.

============================================================================

  
  
  


We end up arriving at the Newton’s house at six-fifteen in the evening. Percy assures me that us being a little late isn’t a problem, because as long as we got there eventually, his parents wouldn’t care. That led us to where we are now, standing at their doorstep. The house is of medium size, and sits in the curve of a cul de sac in a very nice neighborhood. Every house on the street is lit with bright string lights and other decorations for the holidays. My mother only bothered to decorate the house with the blandest things, just to brag to her friends about her beautiful house and perfect family. Everyone outside of her circle knew that the decor she used was- in a word- ugly. Only a few knew that our family was far from perfect.

Percy knocks on the door, then reaches down and takes my hand. I look up at him, the glowing reflection of the lights in his wide eyes, and resist the overwhelming temptation to kiss him. I give in only slightly, standing on the balls of my feet to kiss him on the cheek. He smiles down at me and gives my hand a squeeze. We wait for a couple minutes before he tries knocking again. The moment he does, the door swings open and a pretty black woman an inch or two shorter than me stands in the threshold. 

She beams at Percy, then pulls him into a hug. He maneuvers the presents in his hands so he can try to hug her back. “Hi, Mama, Merry Christmas,” he smiles once she pulls away.

“Merry Christmas, baby. Did you get bigger since the last time I saw you? Ugh, you’re getting so old on me, Percy!” she gushes, holding his arms and stepping back to get a good look at him.

“Mama…” he says, embarrassed, which makes me giggle. 

Percy’s mom twists to looks at me. “And you must be Monty. It’s so nice to finally meet the man who has been treating my Percy so well!” 

I blush. “The pleasure is all mine,” I hold out my hand.

She turns to Percy with an amused grin. "Un gentleman! Et il est très joli pour un garçon blanc! Très bien, mon amour!” she exclaims.

“Mama, arrête!” he cries, red in the face. I look up at him, confused. “All good things,” he sighs. I nod. I’m not completely sure if it actually was all good, but I’m scared to ask. My first time meeting my boyfriend's mother, she and my boyfriend have a conversation in front of me in a foreign language so I won’t be able to understand. Jeanne is gonna have a ball with this one. Maybe I should write down what Percy’s mom said so I can have her translate it for me. 

“Oh, how rude of me! Please come in. Don’t need you two standing out there all night and catching a fever!” She moves out of the way and Percy leads me into the foyer by our joined hands. 

I notice the welcoming atmosphere from the moment his mom opened the door. There is a sweet smell drifting from the kitchen, and there are candles lit on the side tables. The house really reflects the family’s warmth. It makes a lot more sense that my house was so barren and lonely when I take into account what family lived there. I can’t help but wonder what Adrian’s Christmases look like. I hope they’re different from mine growing up, but I doubt it. After all these years, my parents are still the same people. Felicity and I both get Adrian presents and drop them off at the doorstep. It’s the very least we can do, seeing that we aren’t allowed in that house anymore.

Percy and I kick off our shoes on the designated mat by the door, and he sets the presents down on the dining room table. “I’m pretty sure my dad is in the kitchen. We can go say hi and then go upstairs, if you want.”

“That sounds good. Your mom seems nice,” I note.

“She was so excited to meet you. Also, I promise you she was being nice earlier when she started speaking French.”

“I learned a bit during school,” he raises an eyebrow and I continue, “Not that I remember any of it. I think I heard her say ‘gentleman’? I don’t know. In my defense, I’ve never used my French-speaking skills before now,” I joke.

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Top marks, she did indeed say gentleman. Too bad ‘gentleman’ is the same in English as it is in French.”

“Well, damn, you couldn’t have let me have this? You’re cruel!” I laugh, feigning hurt. 

He brushes a piece of hair away from my face and leans down to kiss me. Before he can, his father strolls into the dining room from the kitchen with a pan of something in his hand. When he sees us, his eyes widen and he makes some sort of strangled sound from the back of his throat. The bright red blush that creeps down his neck matches Percy’s. I guess that’s where he gets it from.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, boys, did I interrupt something?” He sets the pan on the table and turns his eyes to the floor. 

Percy shakes his head vigorously. “No, no! You didn’t, I promise. Um,” he runs a hand through his hair and then gestures to me. “This is my boyfriend, Monty.”

I give an awkward wave. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, both of you. Hello, Monty, it’s great to meet you,” he stutters.

I hold my hand out to him. “Don’t worry about it, sir.”

“Oh no, please don’t call me sir. Just Philip is fine.” I can see now that Percy definitely gets his confidence from his mother. I think that if my father ever met this man, he would tear him to pieces, which makes me mad. 

I nod and he just about runs back into the kitchen, which makes me grin. And I thought _I_ was the most nervous about today. I turn back to Percy and catch his adorably embarrassed look. 

He drops his forehead onto my shoulder. “Oh my God, that was _mortifying,”_ he mutters. I laugh and pat him on the back comfortingly. 

“Would you like to go upstairs now?” 

He lifts his head off my shoulder. “Yes, _please.”_

I take his hand in mine and walk toward the stairs, then stop. “You’re going to have to show me where we’re going.”  
  


“Oh, yeah, of course.”

He shuffles in front of me and tugs me up the stairs behind him. Once we reach the landing, he leads me into the room at the end of the hall. The room is painted a light blue, with a white stripe going all the way around. There’s a twin sized bed sitting in the middle, with a simple white nightstand covered in stickers directly beside it. All over the walls are posters for different musicians, from _Florence and the Machine_ to fucking Mozart. There’s a box in the corner with photo albums. 

Percy steps in and takes a look around. “Wow, they really haven’t changed it at all. I come over often, but I haven’t been up here in a couple years. Dad said they were going to turn it into some sort of guest room, but I guess they must have given that up.”

I twist around and raise my eyebrows at him. “Wait, Percy, is this your bedroom? Like the one you had when you were growing up?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. God, I was a mess. I can’t believe they let me ruin this nightstand,” he says, walking over and running his fingers over it. 

“I think it adds character.” I shrug.

“Of course you do,” he laughs.

I shuffle over to the box in the corner and lift out one of the books. I blow the dust off the top, then sneeze because of it. “Oh, what?” he asks, turning around to face me, then races over to me. “Oh, no, you don’t need to look at that,” he cautions. 

I hold the book a little closer. “Nope, too late,” I refute, moving over to the bed and sitting down on the edge. He groans and comes to join me. I open it to the first page, and it’s a picture of him as a baby. He’s sitting at a high chair and his father is kneeling next to him, both of them with twin smiles. Percy has the same long curls in the photo as he does now. He’s holding a spoon too big for his chubby little baby hands. “Percy, I say this honestly, you were the cutest baby I have ever seen.” 

He has his head in his hand and a bright red face. “Stop it!” he smiles.

I skip a couple pages and see a picture of him as a young kid. He’s wearing an apron far too big for him and a chef hat, stirring a bowl with cookie dough in it with such a big, beaming smile, his eyes looked like they were almost closed. He has more freckles than he did in the first photo, and his hair is pulled back into the same low ponytail he wears almost every day. His mom is standing behind him with her hand on his shoulder. 

“You must really like to bake because that,” I point to the photo and twist to look at him, “is the happiest kid I have ever seen.”

He quickly leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose, then looks at the picture. “I used to cook with my mom all the time. Whenever I was in a bad mood, she would pick me back up and we would go bake cookies. I miss that,” he muses.

I face him again. “Well then, we’ll have to try it sometime. Thank you for letting me know that the way to your heart is baked goods.”

“Oh darling, you don’t have to make me cookies for me to love you. But it definitely helps.”

I playfully hit his chest and laugh. He nods toward the book to get me to turn the page, then sets his chin on my shoulder after placing a kiss on my cheek. I bite my lip and grab a chunk of the pages with a smile. The page I land on is him as a teenager. The moment he sees it, he gasps and tries to yank the book out of my hand. “Oh, no you don’t!” I laugh, getting the upper hand and getting it back from him.

In the photo, he’s standing in a school hallway dressed in ill-fitting concert attire. He’s smiling wide and bright despite the blue braces over his teeth. He has his violin in one hand, the other awkwardly hanging down at his side. His freckles are sadly hidden by a pair of rectangular, silver, wire glasses. I raise my eyebrows and gape at him. “That’s you?” I yell, to which he shushes me, looking down at the floor in denial. “Percy, you were a band kid! Oh my God, look at you! You were so cute!”

He laughs in disbelief. “Monty, don’t lie. I was _far_ from cute.”

“Don’t even! I was so weird in school. You look like you would offer to _help_ with my homework if I asked to copy yours.”

“I mean…” he trails off.

“Exactly! Percy, I would have been so jealous of you in high school. You look so happy,” I counter, turning his head to look at the picture.

He smiles against his will. “That _was_ a fun day. I had a solo in my favorite song for the set. That’s when I realized I wanted to make music for the rest of my life,” he finishes.

I hold the side of his face in my hand and kiss him. “I’m so glad you did, my love. If you hadn’t, we never would have met, and you’d have never fallen deeply, passionately, head over heels in love with me,” I tease.

He rolls his eyes fondly and then kisses me again. Then again. And again, and again, and again. At some point, my fingers found their way to his curls, and he laid me down on my back. The kissing isn’t searing and deep breathed like it would normally be at this point. Instead, it’s lazy and sweet, both of us beaming every time we pull away to take a breath. It’s so nice. Nicer than I’ve had in such a long time. Nicer than I had with Sinjon, nicer than I had with Jeanne, and a million times nicer than I _ever_ had with Richard. We’re both so genuinely _happy_ to be here, together. He sits up, straddling my waist. He just sits there, smiling. Nothing else. Just gazing down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. I’m sure I’m looking up at him the same way. 

“Hi,” I breathe.

“Hey,” he smiles back. He tucks a curl behind his ear and then presses one more kiss to my lips, and I lift mine to chase his. I drop my head back onto the bed when he climbs off and saunters over to the mirror sitting atop the dresser on the other side of the room. He looks at himself in it, running his fingers through his hair and wiping the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. I realize that I should probably be doing the same, but I’m too blissed out to move. I sigh happily, dramatically throwing an arm over my eyes. 

Percy spins around and leans against the dresser on his hands. “As much as I am enjoying myself, dinner is probably going to be done soon, and it’s likely they are already getting suspicious of us being up here alone for so long.”

I sit up completely, swinging my legs around the side of the bed. “What could we possibly be doing?” I say, feigning innocence.

He claps his hands together. “I guess we’ll never know.” He walks over to me at the bed and tilts my head up with his fingers. I gradually lift my eyes to gaze at him through my lashes. He leans down painstakingly slowly and presses his lips to mine. I take a chance and open my mouth against his, but he happily takes my jaw in his hand and reciprocates. I’m about to pull him down on top of me when he pulls away with a smirk. 

“Dinner. With my parents.”

I sigh. “Right, sorry.”

He pulls me off the bed by my hand to stand next to him. “Don’t apologize, my love.” 

  
  


We show up at the table a bit later, after having to make ourselves look presentable once again. When we get downstairs, his parents are already sitting at the table waiting for us. Percy’s mom raises her eyebrow, looking unamused.

“So nice of you two to finally show up,” she deadpans. Percy’s dad takes a long sip of his water. 

“Sorry Mama. We were looking at pictures and then we got distracted,” he explains, and I snicker behind him. 

She rolls her eyes. “Oh I’m sure you did. These walls are paper-thin, you know,” she notes, gesturing around her.

Percy chokes on air and looks anywhere besides his mother’s eyes. I’m suddenly very interested in the carpet. I know for a _fact_ that we were exceedingly quiet, but if the walls are really this thin, It's possible they could have heard something. It’s not like we even did anything anyway. I greatly enjoy sleeping with Percy but I draw the line at doing it in his childhood bedroom with his parents downstairs.

Her stern look melts into a playful one. “I’m just kidding. My goodness, you two are so serious! Come, sit down.”

Percy and I look at each other, and he pulls a chair out for me to sit, sitting down in the one next to me. We both grab some of the food in the middle of the table and begin eating. The conversation flows easily for a while, until Percy’s mom wipes her mouth with her napkin, then folds her hands in front of her on the table. “So,” she begins, looking between us, “How did you two get together?”

My eyes widen, and I glance at Percy to see him looking equally as nervous. “We, um, it was sort of… we went…” he trails off, searching for the right thing to say.

I put my hand on his arm and his head snaps over. I turn on my charm and throw on a friendly smile. “I won tickets to a private box for a show at a benefit for my sister, she goes to Harvard Med, and I could only think to invite Percy. We got there and it was so romantic, so we kissed, then confessed our feelings for each other,” I look over at him and give him a look that screams _play along_ and he turns his attention to his parents.

“Oh yes, um, it was very nice. I enjoyed myself a lot,” he stutters, and I seriously resist the urge to slap myself in the face. 

His mom nods skeptically. “Sounds like it. What show again?”

Percy’s dad tilts his head at her with a smile. “Jo, you're embarrassing them,” he interjects.

“How? The boys and I are having a perfectly normal conversation, are we not?” she asks, looking to us for an answer. We both rapidly nod our heads. She gestures to us and turns back to her husband. “See? They aren’t embarrassed.” 

Phillip looks between us as if he wants to say something, then decides to just take a sip of his water instead. Jo turns her attention back to Percy and I. “So, what show did you see?”

“Pippin,” I say, at the same time Percy says, “Newsies.” We look at each other, and I hope I can communicate to him that we should just both say Newsies through my eyes. This time, I say “Newsies,” as Percy says “Pippin.” Before he can speak again, I conclude, “It was a back-to-back type thing.”

Jo narrows her eyes and we both hold our breath, but she nods. Percy nudges my foot under the table and I lift my eyes to see his overly relieved expression. I snicker and grab his hand under the table as we start to eat again.

===============================

Percy and I are led into the living room after everyone is done eating. The TV is lightly buzzing with whatever “made for TV” holiday movie is playing on it. Jo directs us to sit by the tree as she lights the candles around the room and her husband takes his spot on the couch. Under the tree are Percy’s presents to his parents and their gifts to us. I told Percy a million times that they did not need to get me anything, but with what I know about them now, that was a waste of time. Percy is so much like his parents a bunch of different ways. He obviously got his fire from his mom, although I believe the gentle, careful part of him came from his father. I probably shouldn’t think like this, seeing that if someone told me I got _any_ of my personality from my own father, I would tune them out completely. One of my biggest fears is becoming anything like him, and looking just as he did in his younger years does nothing to help this. My mother used to remind me all the time. She would run her hand through my hair and say, “Oh Henry, you look more like him every day,” as if it were some sort of compliment.

Percy rests his hand over mine on the carpet. “Would it be bad if we got food after this?” he whispers, so his parents won’t hear.

“Perce, we _just_ finished eating. How are you already hungry?” I smile, turning my palm so it touches his and folding our fingers together.

He shrugs. “I’m always hungry.”

Jo joins Phillip on the couch, snuggling into his outstretched arm. They are so obviously in love, which I didn’t know parents could be. I’m so used to the terrible, loveless marriages that plagued my family circles. I’m determined that Percy and I will never end up like that, instead hoping for a life like Jo and Phillip’s. “You two are always whispering. Are you gossiping about us?” she teases. She gestures to the presents under the tree. “Monty, the red one is yours, and the green is Percy’s. Go ahead, open them.”

I take the small, nicely wrapped red box and hand the bigger, dark green one to Percy. He slides it into his lap and starts undoing the wrapping paper at the corners.

His father laughs. “Percy, you’re so strange when you do that. We don’t want to keep the paper, you can just rip it.”

“But you guys did such a good job, I don’t want to mess it up,” he responds, blushing. His mother puts a hand on her heart and his father just laughs heartily. 

Percy finishes with the wrapping paper, setting the full piece off to the side once he does. The box underneath is a plain, brown cardboard one. He opens the box and pulls out a small instrument case, presumably for his violin. He looks up at his father with awe. “How did you know I needed a new one?”

Phillip shrugs. “You’ve had that same old case since eighth grade. It was just a guess.”

“Well, it was a good one. Thank you so much,” he finishes. Everyone turns their attention to me, so I focus on the gift in my hands. Percy was right about the wrapping job, because it’s excellent. The only person I’ve ever known that is this skilled at wrapping presents is Felicity, because I’m convinced her reason for life is to excel at everything I suck at. I rip it off, handing the shreds to Percy. Inside the paper is a small, flat box. I take the top off and a stack of photos falls out. Upon further inspection, I realize that they are all pictures. Copies of baby pictures, all of Percy. I hear him let out a strangled sound beside me.

I look up at her with a slack-jawed smile and Jo cackles evilly from the couch. “I thought it would be nice blackmail-” she fakes clearing her throat, “I mean, _memories._ All very nice memories for you to keep around just in case my boy starts acting like a fool.”

Percy scrubs a hand over his face. “Mama!”

“What? You were such a cutie when you were little!”

He looks at me and shakes his head. “I can’t argue with that,” I grin.

“Y’all just met and you’re already ganging up on me. Any help would be nice here, Dad.”

His father shakes with a silent laughter. “I was specifically instructed not to interfere.”

Percy knocks his shoulder with mine and smiles. “And you’re no help.”

“Well, this is the best gift I’ve ever received, so,” I shrug. He leans over to kiss me on the cheek, which makes his mom giggle.

“You two are just perfect together,” she smiles. “It reminds me of Phillip and I when we were young,” she finishes, nodding her head to her husband.

“They met in middle school. High school sweethearts and everything,” Percy tells me.

“How are your parents, Monty? When will we get to meet them?” Jo asks.

“Mama--”

I squeeze Percy’s hand. “It’s fine,” I mouth, then turn to his parents. “I’m not close with them at all, so no time soon.”

She frowns. “Oh, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s alright. You guys wouldn’t have gotten along anyway.”

“That’s too bad.”

============================================================================

“It was wonderful to meet you, Monty,” Jo tells me once Percy and I are led to the door. It’s about ten at night and I’m already just about ready to collapse into bed the moment I get home. Percy and I were planning to watch some Christmas movie once we got back to his apartment, but I’m not sure I’ll even be able to keep my eyes open long enough to get to the opening credits.

“It was nice to meet you too.” I agree. 

She turns to Percy. “Percy, tu l’aime. Il vous aime. Fais attention.”

Percy sighs and nods his head. “Je vais. Je t’aime, Mama.”

She cups his cheek with her hand. “Je t’aime aussi, mon fils.”

Phillip shakes my hand as well as Jo hugs Percy goodbye. Once they pull away, she hugs me too. “You too stay safe alright?”

“We will, don’t worry about it. Merry Christmas,” Percy says.

“Merry Christmas to you too. Have a good one son,” his father responds. 

We walk out onto the front steps and they close the door behind us. The moment it’s closed, Percy breathes a dramatic sigh of relief and take my hand, kissing my knuckles and dropping it back down. I laugh semi-hysterically from the adrenaline of _holy shit I just met Percy’s parents and they_ like _me._ He joins in and we make it to the car. During the ride home, I spend it trying to analyze everything his mother said in French. Perhaps they shouldn’t have thrown me out of the private school my father sent me to, because maybe then I would actually know how to speak French. Not that I can blame them. I didn’t think I would be able to stay after seeing the English teacher’s face after she found me in the courtyard with whatever boy I decided to hang around with that week. It’s astounding to think that all those years ago, I had it beaten into my brain that any kind of love different from the norm was a sin, and that it was dirty and shameful. But loving Percy isn’t shameful. Loving Percy is bright, and beautiful _._ It’s like stepping outside on the first day of spring, feeling the warm sun on your arms and embracing it for the first time in months. Every time he touches me it feels like digging your toes into the hot sand of a beach you saved up for years to visit. Years of pain, and beatings, and _torture,_ all for a lifetime of happiness. And I never intend to go back. 

We pull up to his apartment a while later, and I’m tempted to ask him to carry me inside. My legs are so tired. Well, all of me is tired. Turns out that staying up for days worrying about meeting your boyfriend’s parents doesn’t help the worrying. 

“Percy, I’m tired.” Now, if I were to be in the car with Felicity instead of Percy right now, she would have just gotten out and locked me in. Thankfully, it’s Percy that I’m with. I’m aware that choosing your boyfriend over your sister isn’t the smartest thing, especially when your sister is Felicity Montague. 

He shrugs and takes the keys out of the ignition. “I’m tired too.” He throws in an exaggerated yawn and a sleepy grin to rub in the fact that, yes, I’m whining. It’s not like I can bring myself to care anyway, so there’s no affect. 

“Asshole,” I reply, to which he smiles even bigger.

  
  


We find our way to the door of the apartment. I feel some sort of magnetic pull tugging me to the bed, but Percy takes my hand. “I actually,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I have something for you. I know we were supposed to do presents tomorrow, but I don’t think I can wait.”

Suddenly, I’m not as utterly exhausted as before. “Oh, okay. Um, do you want me to go get your present?”

He furrows his brow. “You can if you _want_ , but you can do it tomorrow if thats better.”

“Well, I’m going to feel bad if you give me a present and I wait, so,” I say, pulling my hand out of his and moving to the bedroom. I pull my gift to him out of the bag I brought for the weekend. It’s a small red box with no wrapping paper, instead wrapped with a ribbon to keep it shut. Inside is a leather bracelet with a golden heart charm in the middle. I’ve had it since a week after we started dating. He looks great in gold jewelry. Well, he looks great in everything. He looks good in nothing as well.

I walk back into the living room, where he sits on the couch. There is a small black box in his lap with a bow, and he opens and closes it repeatedly. I drop down next to him. 

“Did you miss me?”

“Always,” he smiles, a break in the nervous expression that painted his face. The expression comes back as he looks down at the box.

“Here, open yours first,” I tell him, shoving the gift into his lap in hopes to relieve even the smallest bit of tension between us. The silence of the apartment doesn’t help either, the only noise being our breathing. “Felicity told me to tell you that she did the ribbon.”

“Noted. Noted, but not surprised.” He gently takes the ribbon off and lifts the lid off of the box. When he does, he gasps and smiles. He takes the bracelet in his hand and I look at him with anticipation.

“So? Do you like it?” I ask.

He nods. “I love it! It’s beautiful. Thank you, Monty,” he says, wrapping it around his wrist.

“Your turn,” I nudge. He takes a deep breath and hands me the box.

“You definitely don’t have to keep it. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m forcing you-” he babbles as I take off the lid. Inside the box is a layer of red tissue paper. I unwrap it, and there lay a single silver key. “Sorry, I didn’t know if it was too soon and-”

“Percy-” 

“It’s stupid. I can just take it back if you don’t-”

“Percy!” I interrupt, catching his wide eyes with mine. “What are you saying?”

He takes another breath, then reaches for my hand. “I don’t know if it’s too soon, or if you would even want to, but-” he stalls. I gesture for him to get on with it. “Monty, do you want to move in with me?”

My eyes widen and I gape at him like a fish. I don’t think I even breathe for a few seconds. The only thing running through my mind are his words, over and over again, like a goddamn marathon. 

He drops my hand. “Oh my God, I thought it might be too soon. I’m so-”

I swallow and shake my head. “Yes,” I breathe. I’ve never been known to be eloquent, and now is no exception.

“Yes, it’s too early, or yes, you want to move in with me?”

I blink. “Second one.”

He freezes. “Wait, really? You’re serious about this?”

I nod my head, slow at first, then more sure. “Yes. Oh my God, yes!”

He beams and I tackle him with a hug. “Oh my God, yeah! Yes! Yes I will absolutely live here with you,” I laugh.

He pulls back and kisses me, hard. We both laugh and I kiss all over his face. First on his freckles, trying to hit each one, then to his eyelids, then back to his mouth. I sit back from where I’ve traveled into his lap, his hands on my hips. I’m out of breath from all of the sudden movement and time stands still as we stare into each other’s eyes. I swear that his freckles are just escaped stars from the inky black night of his eyes. The longer we stare, the more I see his grin grow in my peripheral vision. Mine is probably doing the same, because I’m sitting here in my boyfriend's lap, on Christmas eve, in _our_ home. And really, how could I keep my composure when those are my circumstances? 

Percy’s nose crinkles and I realize this is finally the end. The end of my father’s white-knuckled grip on my feelings, the way he convinced me more and more with every punch that I’m sick. The end of Richard Peele’s soft, satin sheets that made my skin crawl each time I awoke tangled in them, regardless of their inviting softness the night before. It’s as if Percy stretched his hand into the darkness and pulled me out of the past, into the light. Now I have no other option than to bask in it. So I do.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so , that was fun . very nice and good . please leave a comment to validate me because it turns out writing long chapters is fucking hard yo . so yeah hope you liked it ! 
> 
> see ya later and happy holidays !!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! um, happy new year, i've got some updates. This fic will finish at 10 chapters + an epilogue. ive gotten far too attached to this au, so i'm happy to announce that i will be making a oneshot collection to come with this fic! it will be things like the group gossiping while the boys are away (like on thanksgiving), some percy pov, things like that. idk when this collection will be released, but it is going to happen. anyways enjoy the chapter bc we are nearing the end :')
> 
> make sure to leave a comment and kudos bc i crave validation lmao whoops
> 
> content warnings in the end notes like always
> 
> see ya later!

I begin my morning as I do on most weekends, in Percy’s kitchen in front of the coffee maker. Well, I suppose it’s not only  _ Percy’s _ kitchen anymore. The only thing I’ve moved over from my apartment is my desk and everything on it. We’ve been too busy enjoying the bliss of finally getting to be together all the time, as opposed to the measly two days allowed before. And we’ve been enjoying it plenty, make no mistake. My landlord was having trouble hiding his joy when I told him I would be moving out. I’ve done more paperwork in the past couple of days to finalize it than I have in my entire life. Turns out, leaving an apartment is stressful as hell. I never liked that place a lot anyway. Percy’s apartment is definitely a welcomed upgrade. 

He asked me to move in with him late on Christmas eve. After I accepted the offer, we just about pounced on each other. We never did make it to our bed that night. We fell asleep in each other’s arms on the couch after a lifetime of kissing in spurts, talking in between. We discussed what this meant for our relationship, when I would sell the things we wouldn’t need, everything along those lines. He was very concerned that it was too soon as if there was some ancient book of rules you had to follow when you fell in love with someone. We were never too keen on rules, so what’s breaking one more? Percy kept asking if I was really sure this is what I wanted. The only way I was able to shut him up was to show him how sure I was. And let me say, it went over very well. 

The machine before me beeps, snapping me out of my thoughts. I scoop some coffee grounds out of their box into a filter, setting it in the appropriate compartment. Coffee was at the top of our list when we went grocery shopping the other day, seeing that he never drinks it, and I inhale it like I need it to live. I grab my mug out of the cupboard, sliding onto the plate as the coffee dispenses. I allow the steam to rise over my face, taking in the smell. Once it’s done, I set the mug on the counter beside me, then take Percy’s out. I fill it with the boiling water from the coffee maker, then drop in a cinnamon tea bag. Most days, when we can, Percy wakes up before me and we lay in bed until it’s no longer socially acceptable to stay in bed. Who makes up all this stupid shit anyway? If I want to cuddle with him in bed until dinner, I should be able to! Before I moved in, I would savor the lazy mornings of the weekend and use them as motivation to get through the week. Now, I get to wake up with him every day and even though mornings before work are rushed and busy, it’s better than nothing. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of domestic life, I seriously think I’ll die if I ever have to go back.

As I’m mixing a spoonful of honey into Percy’s tea, I hear his footsteps coming from the bedroom, accompanied by a dramatic yawn. He stops in the opening to the kitchen and rubs his eyes. In the time it took me to get out of bed and make our drinks, he tied his hair up in a messy bun, threw on a hoodie, and presumably brushed his teeth. I smile at him, then go back to mixing the tea. While my eyes are down, I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Good morning to you too, my love,” I say, leaning into Percy’s arms.

He kisses the top of my head. “Morning. What do you have there?”

He steps back as I take the tea off the counter, holding it out to him. “You were sleeping like a rock, so I made you tea for when you woke up.” I lean back against the counter and take a sip of my coffee. 

He smiles, then sees the contents of the mug, which wipes it off his face. “My god, are you drinking that straight?” he asks.

I look down at the black drink. “Yes? Oh, I forgot you drink creamer with a splash of coffee,” I tease.

He rolls his eyes. “Coffee is gross in the first place, why would I want to drink it without anything to soften the blow?”

“I think you’re just a wuss.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You know caffeine is a drug right? Perhaps your brain is fried.”

I wave my hand through the air. “Excuses, excuses.” 

He grins. “Oh, I’ll show you excuses!”

“What-” I start, before he grabs me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder. “Hey! Put me down!” I laugh, kicking my feet. He bounces over to the couch, then drops me onto it. I straighten and fix my hair, panting. “I’ll get you for that!” I yell as he grabs our cups from the kitchen. He saunters into the living room, hands me my coffee, then sits next to me.

“Your hair is a mess,” he notes, running a hand through it.

I gesture wildly to the air. “Wow, I wonder why that is!”

He laughs brightly. “Get over here,” he says, opening his arms up to me. I crawl into them, careful not to spill my mug. I rest the back of my head on my chest and tangle our legs together. He runs his hand through my hair, brushing it away from my face. My breathing evens out, and I melt into him. It feels nice to rest, being so busy preparing for the move. 

“Who knew moving was so stressful,” I mumble.

He lets out a breathy laugh, and I can feel him move under my head. “Once you’re done with all the paperwork, all you have to do is get your clothes over here, so be grateful for that at least.”

“You underestimate the size of my wardrobe.”

I can basically feel him roll his eyes. “Oh yes, the extensive wardrobe that never gets used because all you do is steal  _ my  _ clothes,” he teases, grabbing the material of my sweatshirt.

Well, technically it’s his sweatshirt. 

I giggle and squirm a bit. “You’ve never heard of boyfriend tax? I legally get to steal your clothes whenever I want. Did you not read the fine print of your contract when we started dating?” I joke.

“You only say that because I’m too tall to fit into any of  _ yours. _ ”

I twist to look up at him, leaning my elbow on his chest and tracing the letters on his sweatshirt with my finger. “Don’t put words in my mouth, darling.” I kiss the corner of his lip. “I’m sorry you’ll never experience the joy of the oversized boyfriend hoodie.”

He smiles. “I have other things.”

I raise my eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what would those things be?”

“You.”

I scowl, but I can’t even try to suppress my grin. “God, that’s so cheesy.”

He hums and kisses me on the forehead. I tip my head up and place a lingering kiss on his lips. When I pull away, he slides his hand to my jaw and deepens the kiss. I pull away and readjust myself so my legs are on either side of his waist. I smirk at him, and he gazes up at me with hooded eyes and dilated pupils. I yank his hair out of his knot, which pulls his head backward, exposing his neck, and all the blood leaves my head. Tangling my fingers in the curls and lowering myself to press our foreheads together, I murmur, “I love you.”

His hands travel down to my hips, then under my shirt and up my back. Shivering at the touch, I pull back enough to let him wordlessly tug my shirt the rest of the way off. I move back in close enough that our noses touch. “I love you too,” he whispers, eyes dark and fixed determinedly on my lips. I feel his breath on my face as he speaks. I surge forward to initiate another searing kiss, which he eagerly reciprocates.

============================================================================

An hour or two later, I wake in Percy’s arms on the couch. I fell asleep before he did, so he must have pulled a blanket over us before he fell asleep himself. I turn my head from its place on his chest to see if he’s still sleeping. When I look up, he’s very much awake, gazing down at me with a dopey smile. He drops a kiss to my forehead, then leans back. “Good morning, babe.”

“It’s not-“ I glance at the clock in the kitchen. Eleven in the morning. “I stand corrected.” I drop my cheek back onto his chest with a hum. 

He kisses my hair and pulls me closer to him. “We should probably get up.”

I let out an embarrassingly petulant whine. “Why?”

He giggles quietly. “We have to clean.” He runs a hand up and down my back. “Also, what would we do if someone walks in, right at this moment?”

“Depends on the person.”

He scowls with a smile, which makes my grin grow wider. “You’re shameless.”

I shrug. “You didn’t seem to be complaining earlier.”

His face goes red and he sputters for a moment. “I-“ he starts, then clears his throat. 

“You what?”

“Did I say I was complaining?” he asks.

I gasp and lightly hit his chest. “Percy Newton! What will the town think? Their ‘Saint Percy’ corrupted by some hussy. Shame.”

He rolls his eyes and looks down at me with so much love I feel like I’m going to start floating. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Besides, you’re my hussy.”

“Wow, how romantic.”

  
  
  


We do end up getting dressed in half an hour or so. Neither of us was truly too enthusiastic to leave our place on the couch, no matter what Percy says. He was very adamant that yes, we do actually have to clean. It’s stupid, seeing that he keeps the apartment spotless in the first place. He’s a bit nervous about the fact that we volunteered to host new year’s at our place. And by “a bit nervous,” I mean he has reorganized our bookshelf three times so far. I’m sitting at the kitchen table working on a waffle while he hums along to whatever song plays in his earbuds. 

It’s all so extremely domestic. I’ve found that most things feel like that nowadays. The other day, for example, we brushed our teeth together in the bathroom, and I almost started to cry. I never really believed in love as a kid. I never wrote my first name with the surname of my crush as my last in my notebook. I never watched some cheesy wedding show and imagined, “Wow, I can’t wait for the day where that’s me.” My parents could be mistaken for strangers out in public, that’s how loveless their marriage is. As I started having crushes, I wasn’t concerned about whether or not it could last. The immediate answer that came to my mind was that I didn’t want to end up like my mother and father with whoever I pined over. So as I got older, relationships shaped further into something void of love. A mutual agreement to get each other off and go home, that’s all. My friends started getting into real relationships, and mine just got worse and worse. For a long time, I thought I would end up settling down with Richard, seeing how he convinced me that I was worthless or unlovable, an object only good for a fuck.

The night I came home with Percy for the first time, it shocked me out of that mindset. Even though it was the first time we ever did anything together, he treated me like I was special. Like I deserved all the careful touches he blessed me with. Like I mattered enough for him to ask me if I was alright with absolutely everything. After it was over, he held me close to him as he slept. I stayed awake for about an hour after that. At the time, I wished I could just blame it on the alcohol and run, but neither of us had a single drop. I would pull away every so often, careful not to wake him, to lay back and look at his face. He slept with a dopey smile plastered on his face, which stopped my heart. His freckles seemed to glow gold in the dim lamplight. I knew then that deep down, I wanted to be his. I wanted to wake up and fall asleep with him every day. I wanted him to touch me and love me like that forever. Forever and ever and even after than that. And that scared me. It scared me a lot because the realization that love wasn’t something they made up to sell wedding dresses is jarring. I learned that night, feeling him breathe against my chest, that I wanted him to want me like the people in the stupid wedding shows. That I wanted to write my name and his in hearts in my notebook. I rested my cheek against his heart to listen to it beat and commit the sound to memory because I was entirely convinced I would never get to hear it ever again.

“Monty? Do you think Song of Achilles would look best next to the English dictionary or the French one?”

I look up from my waffle and poke my head around the corner of the dining and living room. Percy’s sitting on the living room floor with a blue bandana holding his hair back. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks over the bookshelf. He waves a hand at me. “So? Which one?”

I stop staring and walk over to him. “Who’s to say.”

“You, that’s why I-,” I sit in his crossed legs, “Really?” He adjusts to make us more comfortable. “I’m being serious. Which one?”

I rub my chin and hold the book up against the dictionaries. “I think it doesn’t matter at all,” I say, sticking it between them on the shelf.

He pushes the book all the way to the back of the shelf, lining it up with the others. “I just want to make sure it looks okay. It does look alright?”

“Yes Perce,” I sigh, climbing out of his lap. I lean against the wall. “I’m telling you, they won’t even  _ look  _ at this kind of stuff. We have a couple of days anyway. Not that it matters, which it doesn’t. At all.”

He huffs. “Alright, go away. I have to vacuum.”

I finish my waffle a while later, the obnoxious noise of the vacuum occupying my thoughts. I turn into the kitchen and click on the coffee maker again. Besides the waffle iron, I’d say it’s the most used appliance in the entire house. Percy knows coffee helps with withdrawal, so on bad days, he’ll bring me cups of it. Even when I’m acting like a demon. True love. 

“Percy?” I yell.

He turns the vacuum off. “Yes, dear?”

The nicknames always catch me off guard. Honestly, I’ll be in a terrible mood but then Percy calls me ‘love’ and my brain turns to mush. “Um, would you like some more tea?”

“That sounds lovely,” he says. “Is that all?” 

“Yeah, that’s it.” 

He turns the vacuum back on.

Once the coffee is ready, I slide my mug off the plate. The second I have it in my hand, Percy screams from the living room, making me spill the drink all over my hoodie.

“Oh, I  _ love  _ this song!” he exclaims. I stomp into the living room with an aggravated frown on my face, wiping the hot coffee off the hoodie with a paper towel. His mouth takes on an O shape and he unplugs the vacuum. “Sorry,” he says, with a lopsided, guilty smile, which makes all of my frustration go up into smoke.

“What song is it,” I sigh. 

He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed from before. “It’s, um,  _ Valerie  _ by Amy Winehouse.” 

I love his excitement about music. Whenever he plays his violin or listens to his playlist, the enthusiasm just rolls off of him. There is never a second where the house is silent. Even when there isn't anything playing, he hums something to fill the space. I enjoy the days where I wake up to him shuffling around our room, humming a tune to himself. 

“That  _ is _ a great song,” I reply.

He nods enthusiastically. I’m about to start walking back to the kitchen when he gasps, ripping the earbuds out of his ears. The song starts playing out loud from his phone and he bounces over to me, holding out a hand. “Dance with me?”

I stand there for a second before bursting out with laughter. I glance up at him but his smile stays intact and the hand is still outstretched. “Percy, I can’t dance.”

He pulls me toward him, directing my hands onto his shoulders. “I can teach you.”

No choice now. “Alright. Just know I’m not any good, at all.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “I don’t care about that,” he says, bringing me into the center of the living room. The singing starts and he moves us side to side. “Here, right foot, left, right again.”

I follow his instructions shakily, watching my feet. “Like that?” I ask, glancing up at him. 

He beams and nods at me. “Yeah, you’re getting it!” He takes my hand in his. “Ready?” he questions, not giving me time to respond before leading me in a simple spin. I laugh a little, and we fall back into the rhythm from before. My confidence builds gradually, and we start to move more. 

“You’re a natural!” he laughs. He takes my hand again, and after the spin, I step away, then back into him. “Nice one.”

I tilt my head. “I try.”

We stay like that, stepping around the living room until the song ends. He grins mischievously, then grabs my waist. I start to say something, but he dips me backwards so that my back parallels the floor. My hair hangs away from my face, and I dig my hands into his shoulders to stay up. The song ends and a slow piano melody begins, but we don’t notice.

The curls hanging out of the bandana fall in his face. His hold on my back strengthens as I reach a hand to his face and tuck one behind his ear. His grin widens. “Hi,” he mumbles.

“Hello,” I breathe with a hint of laughter at the end. Percy leans down to kiss me, and I arch up to meet him halfway. 

The moment our lips touch, Rhiannon comes running into the living room chasing the ball we got her for Christmas. The bell on her collar startles Percy, and he drops me onto the ground. I yelp, and Rhiannon nudges the ball in my direction. I give her a scratch behind her ear, then throw the ball back down the hallway, which she chases happily.

I look up at Percy, who has a hand over his mouth, but his eyes are smiling. “Would you be mad if I told you I wasn’t sorry for dropping you?” 

I raise my eyebrow and sit up. “Depends.”

He crouches down in front of me and brushes out my hair with his hand. “Because that was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and I do not regret bringing it into the world.” 

I roll my eyes and he pulls me up to stand in front of him. “Not mad. Disappointed, but not mad.”

His face twists up. “Oh, the disappointment card. So much worse.”

I shake my head and kiss him on the tip of his nose. When I pull back, he gently takes my chin and kisses me on my lips. 

“Good news,” he starts, standing back and wiping his hands on his pants. “I’m done cleaning. What do you want to do now?”

“Netflix?”

He smiles. “Sounds lovely. But you know what would make it better?”

“What would make it better, Percy?” I sigh.

He bats his eyelashes. “If I were to have that cup of tea I was promised earlier.”

“I can do that. Go get me a fresh sweatshirt, and I can do that,” I tease.

He kisses me on the cheek. “Noted,” he says, before strolling away toward the bedroom. I watch him leave, and flop down on the couch with an obnoxious sigh once he’s gone.

============================================================================

Percy starts baking for the party at about 3 pm on new year’s eve. He’s been printing out recipes left and right all week long, and asking everyone expected to come if they have any allergies. He’s currently working on some cream puffs, but we bought the materials to try to make the greek pastry he brought to work that one day. He begged for the recipe from Scipio, but he wouldn’t budge, so he’s using one his mother found. His cooking abilities have improved tenfold since the pie disaster on Thanksgiving. He always insists I sit at the table whenever he’s stuck in the kitchen to keep him company. 

There’s a crash from behind the counter. “I’m fine!” Percy shouts, popping up and holding a pan over his head. I snicker and shake my head. He frowns. “What’s so funny?”

I stand and lean my side against the chair. “Just you.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Eh, more or less,” I answer, joining him at the counter. “Wait, you’re making them from scratch?” I ask, holding up the cupcake recipe.

He takes the paper back. “They aren’t as hard as you think they are. Do you want to help?”

I knock my hip with his, though it’s more of me hitting his thigh than his hip. This height difference is still hard to get used to, seeing that Percy is about a head taller than me. “No thank you. I'd much rather enjoy watching you do all the hard work. I can taste test them if you want, though.”

He narrows his eyes, looking down at the batter in the bowl as he mixes it. “Perhaps. I'll consider it.” He nods toward the table. “Go sit down and let me be the house-husband.”

I choke on nothing, and I feel my face go cherry-red. “House  _ what _ ?” I stutter.

His lips move as he goes over what he said, then the realization dawns on his face. “Oh hell, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about-”

“No, no it’s fine! Don’t worry about it!” I say, perhaps a little too loud.

He drops his forehead against my shoulder. “God, I am such a mess. I’m sorry.”

I place a hand on top of his head and smile. “It’s not a big deal. Just caught me off guard,” I tell him.

“Caught off guard good? Or caught off guard bad,” he asks, face smushed into my shoulder.

I lift him off, putting a hand on either side of his face. “You’re far too tired to be having this conversation right now.”  _ And I’m far too  _ me  _ to even entertain that train of thought.  _ We’ve only been dating for a few months, it’s much too early to be thinking about that kind of thing. Yes, I want to be with him until my last breath, but I think I’ll suppress that for another couple of months. Or years. Or decades! Doesn’t matter. “How about you go rest, and I’ll finish up.”

He shakes his head and tries to pull away, but I turn his face back to mine. “No, no, I’m just going to finish up first. But thank you.”

“Are you sure? It’s really not a problem.”

He turns his head and kisses my palm. “I’m sure. Didn’t you want to set up your desk?”

“Yeah, I was putting that off,” I sigh, gazing up at him through my lashes.

He giggles and leans forward to kiss my forehead. I lean into it, but he pulls away. 

That’s the only downside to kisses. Someone always pulls away. 

Percy slides his face out of my hands and attends to the bowl of batter, picking up the spoon from the paper towel beside. I watch until he begins mixing again, then walk down the hallway to our bedroom.  _ Our  _ bedroom. The only things I’ve moved over so far are my blanket, my tiny desk, and the stationary off the desk. I have the supplies in a box in the corner of the room. The blanket is on the bed. Figures. 

I grab the cardboard box from the corner and check that nothing got lost in the move over. Pencils that I will not use because I’ll be too busy stealing Percy’s, tiny stickers of gold stars for worksheets, some organization stuff, and folders for anything I still need to grade. Yes it’s minimal, but I don’t need too much. It’s not like I’m a college professor. I slide the box under my arm and cross the hallway into the office. When I walk down the hall, I hear Percy humming the song we danced to in the living room the other day. With a smile on my face, I enter the office and close the door behind me.

The “office” is nothing special. It’s a tiny room that I suspect was meant to be a bedroom of some kind. Before I moved my desk in, the only things occupying the space were Rhiannon’s bed, Percy’s desk, and a lamp. He doesn’t call it an office, instead naming it ‘Rhiannon’s Room’. It’s a fitting name, seeing that she’s laying on her bed, chewing a toy when I enter. 

“Hey baby doll,” I say, making my way over to scratch behind her ear. When I do, she wags her tail, then rolls over onto her back. I rub her belly for a minute, and her tail wags the whole time. I’ve never been particularly fascinated with dogs or animals in general, but Rhiannon is such a sweetheart. Not only is she so sweet, but she’s Percy’s best friend and she keeps him safe, so she is worthy of sainthood in my book. That could be a bit biased, but I don’t care.

The two desks are pushed up next to each other, side to side. His is neat and orderly, and I assume it stays like that all the time. I also guess that mine will become a trainwreck in about a week. Perhaps the hypothetical mess will bother him enough that he tidies it even though it’s not his. I set the box down on the desk and take everything out of it.

The twin desks make me more emotional than they probably should. This life with him is something I never imagined for myself. I was sure that the moment my looks faded, I would be swept under the rug. I would grow old alone and live my life with nobody to share it with. For most, that would be their own personal hell, but for me, that was reality. Then Percy came into my life with his straight lines, poorly hummed tunes, and air fresheners and made that future my worst nightmare. He came and gave me a reason. Like the sun itself, he became the reason to get up every morning. He’s my reason to do anything I can to make that bleak future something I never have to live. I don’t know if I can do that for  _ him _ . I want to be for him everything he is for me and more, but I’m just  _ me.  _ How do you improve someone that’s already perfect?

I glance at our desks and I can feel tears spring up in the corners of my eyes.  _ Do not cry over this. There is nothing to cry about.  _ I sniffle and dig the heels of my palms into my eyes. Just then, the door opens. I drop my hands and turn around. There stands Percy in the doorway with a frown, holding one of the cupcakes in his hand. A tear betrays me and drops down my cheek like we’re in some dramatic A24 film. He sets the cupcake on the table and rushes over to me, holding his arms out. I surge into them and bury my face in the fabric of his sweatshirt. My shoulders shake as I try my hardest not to make any noise. His hand flies to hold the back of my head as the other travels to my back. He doesn’t say anything for a while. Once I’m calm enough, he cups my jaw and gently lifts my face off of his shirt.

“Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he whispers, searching my eyes. 

I try to pull away, bringing the sleeve of my hoodie over the heel of my hand and wiping my cheeks. “I’m fine,” I say, letting out a hollow laugh to try to convince him, which doesn’t work in the slightest.

The corners of his lips curl down. “Monty…”

This is all my fault for fucking crying. I really have no reason for it. Everything is going so well between us, but my dumb ass is about to go and mess it up just like anything good I’ve ever been involved in. He hasn’t told me something is bothering him yet, and I was planning on basking in his love until it eventually runs out.

I put my hand over his on my cheek and paste on my fakest smile. “It’s okay! Just got a little overwhelmed, that’s all.” 

He tilts his head on an angle. “Did I do something?”

I take my hand off my cheek and grab his elbow. “Percy,  _ no.  _ You’ve been so good to me. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

He takes my hand off his elbow, twining our fingers together and lowering our hands to hang between us. “I’m worried about  _ you.  _ Please tell me what’s going on.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, but it comes right back up. I settle for a deep breath instead in an attempt to ignore it. “I love you,” I whisper.

His brow furrows. “I love you too.”

“That’s the problem,” I say, without thinking about how he might misunderstand that.

His eyes widen and his grip on my hand tightens a little. Not so much that it hurts, it never hurts, just enough to feel it. “Oh God, are you breaking up with me?” he asks.

I immediately realize my lapse in logic and place a hand on his cheek. “No! No, not at all. Percy, no.” He sighs heavily with apparent relief, which makes me feel even worse about what I’m gearing up to say. “I love you so much, but I’ve never done any of this before. It’s all so good, and you did that for me.” I slide my hand down to cup his jaw. “You dropped in and made me this life I never could have  _ dreamed _ of having. The problem,” I take another shaky breath, “is that I can’t do that for you. You’re so perfect and- and  _ good. _ I can’t even compare to that. So how am I supposed to make you better if I’m such a mess? You deserve to have someone who can give you what you’ve given me.”

He bites his lower lip and turns his head into his shoulder, wiping his eyes on the hoodie. The house is silent except for a sniffle here and there or the sound of fabric shuffling. It seems that he never cries unless  _ I  _ make him by crying myself. He lifts his face up to meet mine and stares into my eyes for a few seconds. 

I avert my eyes toward the carpet. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that-”

“Monty,” he begins, setting his hand over mine on his jaw. “Please don’t say that. I am  _ so _ far from perfect, you don’t even know. I’m a trainwreck, but every morning I wake up and see you beside me, it takes some of the weight off of my shoulders. That’s something I didn’t think I would ever be lucky enough to have. But here we are.” He takes my hand and presses it against his heart. “There isn’t anyone else on this entire goddamn planet that I want to go to sleep with every night and wake up next to every morning but you.  _ Only  _ you. No matter what happens, I need you to remember that,” he finishes, and a fresh wave of tears are steadily making their way down my face. He strokes my cheekbone with his thumb and looks into my eyes with so much honesty my heart burns. He swallows and begins to say something, but before he can, I jump up to my toes and tug him down to kiss me. 

I kiss him once, then again, and again. I taste my tears between our lips as they continue to flow down my cheeks. “I love you,” I say, pulling him down so I can bury my face in his neck, holding him so tight my nose is completely squished. I place quick kisses on the surrounding skin. “I love you. I love you so much,” I manage, the crying obstructing my ability to speak. He pulls away and stares at me. Not saying a thing, just looking. A few seconds later, he yanks me into a messy, lingering kiss and rests our foreheads together. 

“I love you,” I whisper. 

He nudges my nose with his and smiles. With his eyes closed, he responds, “I love you too, my darling.”

I lean in and kiss him the softest I have ever kissed anyone. This time, neither of us can seem to pull away.

============================================================================

  
  


We told everyone to come over to our place around 9 pm. Percy has all of his desserts out on the kitchen table. He found time to decorate the cupcakes and make a batch of cream puffs before the time we scheduled for everyone to come over. We didn’t plan on coordinating our outfits, but it ends up working out that way. He’s wearing a navy blue oversized sweater with a pair of grey, plaid fitted pants. I decided on a light turtleneck and a pair of tight blue jeans. 

He’s sitting on his phone at the kitchen table waiting for our guests. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. I lean down to kiss his cheek, then set my chin on his shoulder. “Happy new year’s eve, darling,” I murmur.

“You too,” he says, opening his camera app. “Smile.”

I turn my head and kiss him again just as the camera goes off. He giggles then opens the photo. In it, he has his eyes shut and a blissful grin as I press my lips against his right cheek. The image is so perfect, I want it on every billboard in the city, just so that I can see it everywhere I go. 

I press the side of my face against his and grin. “Send that to me please.”

He nods and I pull myself off of him just as the doorbell rings. I make my way over to the door and swing it open. There stands Felicity and Sim, bundled up in their winter coats and scarves. There’s snow coating their hair and eyelashes. Felicity pushes past me into the house and shivers, kicking off her shoes. Sim throws a hand up in greeting. In her other hand is a rather large bag, which she shoves into my arms.

“That’s a housewarming gift for you guys. Feli insisted you would like it.”

Hearing the word  _ gift  _ must have drawn Percy over all by itself. He looks over my shoulder as I take a cardboard box out of the bag. I open it, and inside is a brand new waffle maker. Percy gasps and I turn toward him. He’s beaming as he takes the waffle maker out of my hand, turning it over and examining it.

I walk toward Felicity in the living room and she looks up from her phone. “I assume you like it?” she asks, a smile teasing at her lips.

“Definitely. I think Percy does too,” I finish, glancing over at him and Sim in the doorway. He’s beaming and thanking her like crazy. 

She lets the smile out. “I’m glad. I’m uh-” she starts, looking at the carpet, then back up. “I’m really happy for you two. I’m glad you found each other. I thought I would have to pick you up from a bar every weekend when you’re drunk off your ass forever. It’s good that you have him to do that for you instead.”

I roll my eyes with a grin. “Good thing I haven’t had a drink in two months,” I tease. It feels so good to finally be able to say something like that. I started drinking when I was thirteen. At the time, it was the only way I could numb the pain of my father’s beatings or another rejection. The years went on, and it only got worse. After every inconvenience, I had a drink. Then another, and another, and another, until I couldn’t even remember my own name. I didn’t do it to feel better about myself, most times it only filled me with even more shame and regret. Every time I was drunk, I could just stop time and not have to think about whatever made me start drinking in the first place. It was a short term solution, but anything was better than being left alone with my thoughts to wallow in shame.

I’m not saying I’m completely over that. Even now, when things get tough, my fingers will itch for a bottle. It’s much easier to fight it off now, but the urge is still there. Withdrawal is a sick son of a bitch, even after two months. I haven’t been mixing energy drinks with coffee to help with it as often. The first time Percy saw me do it he made me pour the drink down the sink. He said something like, “You’re going to have a heart attack, and then I’ll be lonely. Dump it please.” Obviously I did dump it, but that didn’t stop me from immediately making another cup of plain coffee. We’ve talked about my addiction and how I still get urges sometimes and withdrawal. Percy’s completely supportive, telling me to let him know if I needed anything. He didn’t have any alcohol in his apartment to begin with, so nothing changed on his side. When I’m being a total brat on a bad day, I get cuddles in return for me shutting up, which is a fair bargain.

She nods. “That’s wonderful. You really have changed so much since the summer. In a good way.”

“I’d hope in a good way. It wasn’t all me, though,” I say, gazing across the room at Percy. 

It’s shocking how well Percy gets along with my friends. He became a part of the group the second he met them. He’s just like that. Everyone is drawn to him because of his natural friendliness. It’s the same for me, except they’re caught by my devilishly good looks and my (mostly) irresistible charm. Percy is one of the only people I’ve met who isn’t affected by them. Mostly. I don’t really need to try with him though, so it’s okay. That’s the good part. Not having to try to make someone want to be around you. It’s not something I’m used to, having spent years making people trip over themselves to catch my attention, just to conceal my own self-hatred. But Percy stays with me even when I look like shit, or when I’m in a bad mood. I like that.

She scowls and waves her hand, grabbing my attention. “Enough. Don’t get all mushy on me right now. I came to eat your food, not to listen to you write sonnets about your boyfriend.”

I shrug. “You asked. If you hadn’t have made him cry over a waffle maker, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

She grunts then walks over to the table with the pastries. 

  
  
  


A half an hour later, all of our guests have arrived. Jeanne and Johanna showed up a little after Sim and Feli. Jeanne and Johanna are some of the best friends I know. Seriously, it’s like they were put on this earth specifically to meet each other. Sometimes, I wonder if they’ve ever considered being more than that, just because of how in sync they are all the time. It’s not likely that they ever have, close friends can exist without any romance. Look at Feli and Sim. But I wonder nonetheless. They’re chatting on the couch, each with a glass of sparkling grape juice in their hand, gossiping about something I’m not paying attention to. It’s best to leave them in their own little bubble when they’re like that. Percy and I are sitting next to them on the other couch. Every so often I can catch a line of their conversation. If Johanna sees me staring, she snaps her finger in front of her face, then gestures for me to turn back around. 

I’m sitting so close to Percy I’m practically in his lap, finishing off one of the cupcakes he made. His baking really has gotten better over the past couple of months. We sit comfortably without talking, the chatter from the girls and the new year’s eve ceremony on the TV filling the space. He’s playing with my hair where it escapes from its knot. 

I nudge his chin with the top of my head, and he lifts it so I can lay my head on his shoulder. “Hey, Perce?”

“Yes, darling?”

“What’s your resolution?” I ask. I hope he doesn’t ask me about mine, seeing that I never have them. The whole idea of new year’s resolutions was probably just made up to sell gym clothes. Why should I have to change my entire life just because a new year is starting? If I really wanted to change anything, I would have done it already.

He thinks for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it. Probably to get better at cooking or play my violin more.”

I bark out a laugh and pull back to look at him. “Percy, your resolution has to be something you don’t already do or are good at. You never put that violin down, and everything you make is delicious,” I say.

He blushes and rolls his eyes. “Oh, stop. You’re embarrassing me,” he smiles. 

“But it’s true!” I take on a mischievous grin. I turn toward Johanna and Jeanne. “Did you guys know that Percy is a great cook?”

Johanna nods enthusiastically with wide eyes. “Yeah, I’ve had like, seven of these cream puffs. They’re amazing.”

I nod at him. “See that?” He dismisses me with a flick of his hand. I turn back to the girls. “And, he’s an amazing musician. Seriously, every time he plays I fall even more in love. Even when he’s tuning and it sounds like shi-” I start, but he smacks a hand over my mouth and pulls me into his chest.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s clearly  _ lost his mind, _ ” he emphasizes, pointedly looking down at me. I grin beneath his hand and bite at the skin on his palm. He yelps and lets go, pushing me away and shaking out his hand. I fall back into his lap and we laugh together for a while.

I stop when the girls catch my eye on the other side of the couch. Jeanne has her eyebrow raised and Johanna looks like she’s ready to knock our heads together. “Are you done?” Jeanne asks.

Percy lifts his eyes to look at them. “Oh, um, sorry,” he stutters, looking anywhere but their eyes.

Jeanne laughs once. The kind that sounds like bells ringing. “Percy, we’re just kidding. Lighten up.” 

“Oh that’s- sorry,” he says, awkwardly laughing afterward. Johanna looks like she’s about to burst with laughter, which makes me feel a little better about my own embarrassment over the whole ordeal. 

I adjust so that my head rests on his legs. “Enough out of you,” he teases, pushing a piece of hair out of my eyes and leaning his elbow against the arm of the couch. I melt a little under his gaze and smile up at him.

Johanna laughs once, but neither of us looks at her. “Oh, good, they’ve gotten even more domestic since Thanksgiving.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Felicity poke her head in and nod vigorously. “I  _ know. _ ”

I grab a pillow off the floor and throw it at her, but she slinks backward just in time for it to hit the wall instead. I flop back into Percy’s lap and he giggles, leaning down to kiss my forehead, which earns a groan from everyone else in the room.

============================================================================

  
  


As the clock nears midnight, everyone starts to settle down in the living room in front of the TV. We uphold the yearly tradition of watching the ball drop and harshly critiquing every performance. Well, it’s mostly just Felicity and I bullying the performers. The judgemental Montague genes are strong, and this is one of our healthiest outlets. Some of the others include Project Runway, Chopped, basically any American competition show. Turns out that screaming at the TV with your sister is an excellent bonding activity. 

Percy, the girls, and I have stayed in our same spots on the couch and Felicity and Sim have joined us. They’re sitting on the floor in front of the couch playing a card game. If I cared enough to do so, I could easily determine what they’re playing. A plus side of growing up rich, you get a lot of gambling practice with almost no consequence whatsoever. Really, gambling is like taking candy from babies. The legality of a large percent of my teen activities is questionable at best, but I was loaded, so it’s not like I would have to face any legal repercussions anyway. 

The announcer on TV declares that the following commercial break would be the last before the new year. An ad starts playing and Percy lifts me off his lap to stand. He stretches his arms above his head, which lifts his shirt, revealing the skin underneath. I force myself to look away, and in the process lock eyes with Sim. She grins with raised eyebrows and tilts her head as if to say, “Why are you looking away?” I crease my forehead and purse my lips together, which makes her laugh.

“Does anyone need anything from the kitchen?” Percy asks the group. Everyone shakes their head except for Jeanne, who asks if he could grab her one of the cream puffs. He nods and stalks off to the kitchen. 

I stand up and start to follow him, but Felicity grabs my ankle. “These walls,” she gestures around the room, “are paper-thin. Tread lightly,” she warns.

I roll my eyes and shake my leg out of her grasp. “Christ, Felicity, I’m not fifteen years old.”

She holds her hands up in surrender, then turns back toward her card game with Sim, shaking her head. I enter the kitchen while Percy is pouring a glass of grape juice into a wine glass. I often ponder the fact that he owns enough wine glasses for all of us, but has never kept alcohol in the apartment. The grape juice makes me feel better about not drinking alcohol on new year’s like everyone else my age, excluding everyone in the living room.

When he sees my walk in, he sets down the bottle. “Do you need something?” he asks, resting a hip against the counter.

“Nothing in particular, no,” I start, leaning against the counter to mirror him, “I just thought I’d tell you, I’ve figured out my resolution.”

He raises an eyebrow and brings the glass up to his lips. “Oh?” he teases, taking a sip of the juice and looking at me over the cup.

I grin. “My resolution is to make more time for romance in my life.” I step closer to him and he sets down his glass. “Sound good?” I ask, grinning with a tilted head.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hand on the small of my back. I lean in to kiss him, but he just pecks my forehead. I blink and shake my head, looking up at him with a slack jaw. He shrugs, then pats me twice on the side of my cheek and takes the glass off the counter. He swallows a sip of it. “Sounds nice, but not as nice as watching the ball drop with all of our friends.”

I roll my eyes and groan petulantly. He laughs at this, then walks off to the living room. Over his shoulder, he throws me a wink. “We’ll discuss it in depth later, promise.”

From the living room, Sim groans, which makes Percy stop in his tracks at the entrance to the kitchen. “We can hear you guys, by the way! For once, don’t be gross,” she yells, and I see a blush creep down Percy’s neck.

He turns around and walks back toward me. He reaches past me and grabs the cream puff for Johanna, then kisses my cheek and walks out. I stand there for a second, then sigh and follow him.

============================================================================

Five minutes before the new year, all of us stand in anticipation for the ball drop. Sim and Johanna are ranting about something rather loudly, tapping Felicity on the shoulder every once and a while for an opinion. Percy has his arms around my waist from behind. He sways us gently in time with whatever song plays from the TV that I can’t be bothered to pay attention to. I’m leaning into him so much that I think if he let go, I would fall immediately. He brings his chin to my shoulder. “Happy new year’s eve,” he whispers.

I hum and close my eyes. “Yeah, don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”

He kisses the spot behind my ear where my jaw connects to my neck. “Never too late, my love.”

I lean into him more and start swaying us again. He twines his fingers with mine where they rest on my stomach and gives my hand a squeeze. 

It’s crazy how much can change in a matter of months. If you had asked me in October what my plans are for new year’s, I would have shrugged and made some joke about being too drunk to remember it anyway. Instead of that, Percy Newton is dancing with me in the living room of our apartment, surrounded by our best friends. Every time I think about it, I want to smack Monty from before for being so oblivious to his feelings. I’m a master at suppressing my feelings, but at least I usually  _ know  _ what feelings I’m suppressing when I do so. But no, of course when it actually mattered, I didn’t take into account all of the entirely obvious signs. If I would have gotten my shit together sooner, we could have been coupled for  _ years  _ before now. I know dwelling on the past gets you nowhere, but nobody who has said that has never dwelled on the past themself. I personally prefer the term  _ remorsefully reminisce,  _ thank you very much.

Percy nudges the side of my face with his nose, and when I open my eyes, I see the clock. 11:59 pm. I basically jump out of his arms and turn us so we parallel the TV, facing each other. I grab his face in my hands and smirk. “Seems like a good way to start off the new year, yes?”

He grins the lopsided grin that makes my heart drop. “I think so,” he agrees.

The five-second countdown begins and I move in closer, the tips of our noses touching. Right at the last second, he smirks, grabbing my waist and dipping me backward, pressing his lips hard to mine. I smile into it, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. I hear the girls whistling at us and wishing each other a happy new year. Percy lifts his lips off of mine and touches our noses together, smiling. “Happy new year, my darling,” he whispers.

I smile back and kiss him again. “Happy new year, Percy.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay i hope you enjoyed the chapter! thanks for reading it! pls leave a comment and kudos if u liked it or if u didnt i dont care validation is validation . savor this fluffy garbage before everything goes to shit in the next couple chapters
> 
> content warning:
> 
> references to past alcoholism and alcohol withdrawal
> 
> see ya later!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoops my finger slipped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this took so long but school is a bitch so :) uhhh comment and kudos like always . this is me apologizing in advance
> 
> trigger warnings in the end notes!
> 
> see ya later !

Personally, I believe that the work-day before Valentine’s day is hard for everyone, not just people who have to spend the day hiding the fact that you have reason to celebrate from everyone around you. Do I also believe that Percy and I have it harder than others in that respect? Yes, I do. My lesson plan for today is pretty blank. The only thing I have written down is the spelling quiz we have every Friday, then the rest of the school day is pretty much completely open to holiday festivities. Teaching kids is easy enough on normal days, but on holidays I’m basically just a glorified babysitter.

Earlier this morning I printed a bunch of Valentine’s themed coloring pages and cards for them. For the ambitious ones, there is also a crossword puzzle. I’ve done three so far because there isn’t an age limit on crayons and I’m extremely bored. All the kids are pretty caught up in their own conversations, so I sit at my desk on the side of the classroom trying my best to relax. That is, until my inability to mind my own business for ten seconds gets in the way.

I clap my hands three times, and I nod when they do the same in response. I understand that they are conditioned to respond that way, but it’s America. Aren’t we all conditioned to do stupid shit all the time? “So, does anyone have fun plans for Valentine’s day?” A couple of people try to answer at once, but I frantically wave my hands in the air. “One at a time. I can’t understand a thing you say when you all talk at once.” Having ADHD and teaching second-graders don’t mix well at some points. Many points, actually. I got diagnosed around the same time I started this job, due to Felicity’s suggestion. She said her class went over it, and that I exhibited plenty of the symptoms. I went to the doctor, and sure enough, I have it. Now I can add another thing to the list of things that could’ve been realized early on if my father wasn’t such an asshole.

Molly shoots her hand up in the air so fast, her blonde ponytails swing at her ears. I call on her first, and she beams. “My mommies are going to a restaurant tomorrow, so I get to sleep at my babysitter's house! She said we could stay up late, and watch Rapunzel!” 

Good for her moms. I’d have to say, if I ever end up having kids for some reason, they’re getting shipped off to the babysitter’s house once a weekend. It’s extremely unlikely that I will have kids though. I prefer to avoid them if I can if they aren’t my students or my friend’s kids. Granted, I have no friends with kids. “That sounds like a lot of fun, Molly. I always liked that movie.”

She strikes up another conversation with her tablemates, so I call on Isaac. He’s a redhead with curly hair down to his shoulders and big circular glasses that take up half of his face. He leans his elbow against the table and drops his cheek into his hand. “I gave my girlfriend a lollipop. One of the heart ones. Cherry-flavored,” he says, face turning almost as red as his hair while a cartoonish grin stretches across his lips.

I laugh at the expression, leaning back in my chair. “Oh, the thrill of young love. I’m sure she liked it a lot.”

“What are you doing for Valentine’s day, Mr. Monty?” he asks. 

I clear my throat. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe I will take a page from Molly’s book and watch a movie.”

Isaac nods and opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off by a sharp knock at the door. I roll my eyes and the kids quiet as I groan, rolling my chair toward the door. I’m sure it’s Richard, until the door swings open, Percy holding onto the knob. He leans into the doorframe with a pink envelope in his hand. The scowl melts off my face, being replaced with a grin. A few kids wave and he says hello back with a warm smile. 

“Why, hello Mr. Newton, what a pleasure to see you on this fine day,” I tease. 

He crosses his arms over the pink shirt I helped pick out this morning. My heart flutters at the notion. “I had a delivery for you, but I think I should just keep it now.”

I lean back in my chair, folding my hands in my lap jokingly. “A delivery, hm? Must be important.”

He holds the envelope out to me expectantly, and I gesture for him to come closer. He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he says, lowering the envelope. “I am  _ five feet away  _ from you. Just roll your chair over here and take it.”

I slouch even more. “I’m comfortable  _ here.” _

He rolls his eyes again, and I can see him hide a smile as he walks over to me. Mission accomplished. He bows, and dramatically flips his hand a couple of times as he hands me the letter. 

I examine the envelope in my hands, turning it around a couple of times. I set it on the desk, and look up to see him tipping his head. “Oh, you want me to open it now?”

He blushes, then pivots on his heel and walks away. Once he reaches the door, he salutes the class, then grabs the knob and swings it closed. I stare at the door for a few more seconds after he leaves, but regain focus soon enough and address the class.

“Are you and Mr. Newton in love?” Jemma says, before I can even get a word out.

The back of my ears and cheekbones set on fire and I touch a hand to my face as if that will make it any better. “What-” I clear my throat, “What makes you say that?”

She points vaguely to my desk. “He wrote you a love letter!”

I resist the urge to pull my own hair out. “He didn’t write it.” All the money in the world says he did write it, and I’ve just lied to a seven-year-old.

Jemma brings a hand to her cheek and strikes a comical thinking pose. I think Jeanne would evaporate if she were here right now.

“What if he did write it! Secretly. He looks at you,” Isaac points directly at me, “like my mommy and daddy do when they think I’m not looking. Maybe he wants you to be his Valentine!” He finishes, as if a lightbulb just appeared above his head. Everyone else in the class nods and I don’t think anything short of my own fatality is going to get me out of this.

“I’ll ask him,” I lie. Sometimes, the only way to satisfy people is to tell people you’ll do something and pray to anyone who may be listening that they’ll forget about it. Lucky for me, kids usually have the attention span of a chimpanzee. 

They all look at each other, and I cross my fingers behind my back. After the council finishes their consideration, Molly nods, then looks me in the eye. “Can we play a game now?”

With every day, I question my abysmal salary a bit more.

============================================================================

Once the kids are in the lunchroom and my lunch break begins, I stroll leisurely down the hall back to my room. I’m obviously in the second-grade wing, tucked away in a corner with Percy’s room. The rooms next to ours are either just the fax machine’s room or purely for janitorial supplies. There is a door directly to the right of mine, leading out to the courtyard. It’s extremely convenient for springtime, seeing that I take my students out there whenever I can. 

I enter the room expecting Percy to greet me from one of the tables. Instead, the classroom is empty. I furrow my brow and move over to my desk, leaning over it to check my phone. I mildly regret leaving it in the room while I walked the kids down because on my notification bar is a text from Percy asking me to meet him in the breakroom. With a groan, I pick up the phone, grab my charger, and turn off the light.

The halls are decorated with pink and red plastic streamers. As I get closer to the art room, more student decorations and drawings start popping up. I stop for a second or two to examine the pieces, checking for the names of any of my students. Rae’s painting of her and her family is pinned to the wall, and I smile to myself with pride. I often ask about their lives outside of school and what they do for fun to get to know them better. Obviously, keeping my own childhood in mind, I never pry if they don’t want to talk about it. The only thing to do in that case is switch the topic to something lighter and check in on them often. It’s what I wish someone could have done for me.

My feet carry me down the hall while my mind wanders through the clouds. I push open the door to the breakroom. There sits Percy at the two-chaired table with a box in his hand. When he sees me, he smiles, and I smile back. That tends to happen a lot. I sit down across from him and he pushes the box over to me. It’s a flimsy white cardboard box, and I guess what is in it before I even lift the lid. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” I gush, taking the pastry from the box and shoving it into my mouth. 

He giggles. “And you thought  _ I  _ had to be bribed with baked goods. Chew slower, you’re going to choke.”

I hold a hand up to my very full mouth and nod. I swallow the bite and point to him. “This is not a bribe. I loved you before the pastry. It’s just a little extra push,” I finish, grinning as I near the end of my statement.

He throws his hands up dramatically, leaning back in his plastic chair. When he does, I see a matching box in his lap. He takes a pastry of his own out of it.

“Tell Scipio that he’s a blessing.”

Percy smiles. “I’m sure he knows.”

We fall into a comfortable silence to eat. We did pack actual lunches for the day, but I think I’ll pass on the sandwich in favor of this flaky, golden-brown slice of heaven. After I’m finished with mine, I wipe my hands on a napkin and throw the box back on the table. Percy finishes shortly after I do, and we just gaze at each other for a minute.

“You know, you’re the reason I used to eat lunch in my room every day,” I note.

He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. “Where are you going with this?” The lopsided grin that melts my heart is in full force.

“I didn’t feel like dealing with you,” I shrug.

He rolls his eyes fondly, holding his hand out to me across the table. I take it, and he gives it a squeeze, twining our fingers together. “Well, would you look at us now.”

I desperately yearn to walk around the table and kiss him silly. I can tell through his sad smile that he wouldn’t be opposed either. I lean my elbow on the table and drop my cheek down to my fist. Out of nowhere, Percy yanks his hand away and turns his eyes to the microwave in the corner. I look to the door just as Richard walks in.

He runs a hand through his hair and eyes us strangely. I lock eyes with Percy and he swallows nervously. 

From the fridge, Richard pulls out a glass container of salad. Poking it with a fork, he shuts the fridge door and leans against it. “Have you got any plans for Valentine’s day?” he asks.

Percy turns to him and his eyes flit to mine before he clears his throat. “I’m not doing anything special. I’ll probably just watch a movie or something,” he says, adding a nervous laugh at the end.

Richard looks him up and down like a mean girl. “Sounds about right,” he says, and I swear to god, I see Percy’s eye twitch. “What about you, Monty?”

My head snaps back to Richard and I blink. “Oh, um, probably the same as Percy,” I add.

He raises an eyebrow but nods eventually. “Have fun with that. See you at the party.”

About a week ago, Miss. Wickham invited a few of the teachers to an annual valentines day party at her family's estate. I’m not sure why I got the invitation. See, Amelia and I have quite a bit of history. She grew up as rich as I did, and we attended the same private high school. At homecoming of my sophomore year, she was bored enough to follow me into one of the supply closets. And let me say, it was horrible. Yes, it was my first time, but that didn’t stop it from being the most awful hookup in the history of the world. As if it wasn’t bad enough on its own, one of the janitors caught us, then dragged us into the hallway to read us the riot act. We shuffled off in different directions, not speaking. I never heard from her again, until she was hired at the school a little after I was. Even now, it’s painfully awkward every time we interact by ourselves. Like there's a huge sign over our heads that says “Hey! Remember when you two hooked up in high school?” Despite this, I still found a pink, wax-sealed envelope on my desk last week inviting me to her family’s mansion the day before Valentine's day for a party. I knew Percy also got one, judging by the fact that he is friends with all of our coworkers. Well, most of them. 

”Yeah, see you then,” Percy snarls, failing to conceal his annoyance.

Richard pays him no mind, beelining to the door and walking out. The moment he’s gone, Percy drops his head onto the table and scowls. He lifts his head, then drops it back down, arms hanging at his sides. 

“I hate him. I hate Richard Peele.”

I reach my hand across the table, and he grabs it in his. He lifts his head to press a kiss to the top of my hand and my heart jumps in my chest. “Oh darling, I think you mean  _ we _ hate Richard Peele.”

We stall for a bit longer in the breakroom. It’s fairly stupid, seeing that we will go home together in less than three hours. Love makes you stupid. It makes you drowsy, and silly, and stupid, and so utterly soft. All of that built up pre-relationship yearning blooms fantastically into the general bliss that comes with being around the object of your affection and having your feelings reciprocated. I have to say, it’s quite a nice transition. 

Soon enough, Percy huffs and lets go of my hand. After throwing our garbage in the bin, he leans down to drop a kiss to my hair. I don’t look up from my phone until I hear the door close behind him.

Once my students are in their seats after lunch, I come in from the hall and shut the door behind me. They’re still rowdy from the cafeteria. That energy mixes with the childlike excitement that always shows up the day before a holiday, making them completely restless. It’s sweet that they get so hyped up for something that they can’t even properly celebrate. Though, I assume that mass amounts of chocolate and heart-shaped suckers is enough to keep them satisfied. 

I tell them they need to quiet down and begin asking what movie they’d like to watch for the rest of the day when a glint of something red catches my eye from the desk. I roll my eyes at it and continue milling through the options. I don’t own many movies, having Netflix and all, but Jeanne does, further perpetuating the theory that she is literally a princess in disguise. Seriously, I’ve seen a bird land on her shoulder once. The majority vote goes to Ratatouille. An inspired choice, I must say. Grabbing the DVD from my bag, I step over to my desk and pop it into my computer. The classroom falls silent, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

I finally indulge my curiosity and pick up the red box. After a closer inspection, I notice that the red shine is only the plastic that it’s wrapped in. I rip it off, then run a hand over the black board beneath. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I peek under the lid and smell the sweet scent of chocolate. I slide the box into my bag, then dig around for my phone and set it in front of my keyboard. 

You: why did you,,, we literally live together

percy <3: I thought you would appreciate a surprise. 

percy <3: Are you implying that you would rather I didn’t leave it for you?

You: ...no comment

percy <3: Exactly

You: ur rly going all out with this huh

percy <3: I want to spoil you!

You: i see, ily 

percy <3: I love you more!

You: impossible

  
  
  


============================================================================

The address on the invite leads us into one of the richest neighborhoods in our area. Each house- scratch that,  _ mansion _ \- we pass is bigger than the last, with iron gates and fountains in the yard. Nearing the end of the road, we finally reach our destination. The Wickham family’s estate is huge, beating the fact that they are loaded into your head with every inch you travel up their abnormally long driveway. Percy whistles at the mansion as we pull up to it. 

When we enter through the front door, a long corridor stretches before us. The door at the very end is open, the sounds of a raging party oozing out into the hall. It seems that she put a lot more thought into it than I would have. The party inside is much more reminiscent of a high school house party than one you would invite coworkers to. There is a hot pink hue to the huge room, LED strip lights in every corner. What looks like handmade garland streams from the ceiling. The glare from the LEDs bounces off the crystals on the chandelier in the center of the ceiling, creating a dreamy atmosphere appropriate for the occasion. Party guests are dancing in a less than wholesome manner to the song pounding out of the speakers. Percy and I look at each other, then shrug in unison. 

Amelia bounces over to where we stand in the doorway, wrapped in a low cut, tight mini-dress that makes her look closer to eighteen than twenty-six. Her fiery red hair is coiffed in tight curls that hang over her dainty freckled shoulders. Her look makes me feel extremely underdressed. She bats her pretty, long eyelashes at us with a smile. Percy slaps me on the arm with the back of his hand. When I look at him, his eyes are fixed on Amelia, but an air of jealousy rolls off of him in waves. I turn my attention back to her, a smile spreading on my lips.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Amelia exclaims, before noticing the very small amount of space between us. “Oh, did you two come together?”

My eyes widen and I look up at Percy, who’s completely calm. “We just carpooled,” he leans in closer to her. “His car is kind of a piece of shit.”

She giggles and nods, then jumps a little in realization. My heart drops through the floor at the thought that she could have figured us out, but she smacks herself lightly on the forehead. “Goodness, what kind of host am I? Come on in!” She steps out of our way and gestures for us to enter. We walk into the room as her friend holds out a drink to her, which she accepts, joining her group on the dance floor. Percy and I skirt around the edge of the dancing mob. Eventually, we make it to the back, where there is a set of empty chairs next to the drink table. Percy takes off his jacket, then pulls mine off of my shoulders, throwing them over his arm. 

He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his corduroys. “So, what now?” We’re right next to the speakers, which blasts the music so loud, we almost have to scream.

I grin, and shrug lightly. “I don’t know. There seems like there’s plenty to do. Did you expect this, by the way? Like, I knew she was rich but I didn’t realize  _ how  _ rich.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, no, not at all. I’m pretty sure this is the biggest house I’ve ever  _ seen,  _ let alone been inside,” he explains. 

Personally, I’ve been to far larger, far more extravagant parties as a kid, but this one is definitely on the list for the most well done. Everyone is having fun, and the energy is light and bubbly all around. Percy and I agreed that we would try to be in and out quick, but I don’t know if that’s still the case. This party clearly exceeds our expectations by a million. The atmosphere is so romantic, it’s cruel that we won’t get to make the most of it. 

I open my mouth to respond to him, but my words get caught in my throat as a new song starts playing. I don’t know who is controlling the music, but they have  _ excellent  _ taste. I grab Percy’s hands, not realizing what I’m doing because of my excitement. He looks around once, but nobody is focused on us. “This is one of my favorite songs, can we  _ please _ go dance?” I ask, drawing out the “please” and smiling up at him in hopes that I can break him out of his nervousness.

He shifts his gaze back toward me with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea-” he starts, spitting the words out rather quickly. I squeeze his hands and slap on my best doe-eyed look. I watch as his concern melts away with a huff, and he rolls his eyes fondly. “Fine. But you have to pretend we are just two very straight friends and nothing more. Do you think you could manage that?”

I grin, tugging him onto the floor. “I know, Perce. I’m not  _ completely _ stupid, no matter what Felicity says.”

He tilts his head to the side and follows. “I never said you were stupid.”

I stop moving, standing with an appropriate distance between us. “You’re making it hard for me to maintain a friendly amount of physical contact right now.”

He throws his hands up in surrender and grins. “I’m just telling the truth,” he shrugs, starting to bounce up and down on his heels in time with the music. “Come over here.” He holds his hand out to me and I take it hesitantly. He pulls me toward him so that we’re in a dancing position, our hands lifted to the side.

As we move side to side, back and forth, I raise an eyebrow. “What happened to that rule?” I tease, stepping on his foot. 

He scrunches up his nose and steps on mine. “Straight people dance too, you know.”

I roll my eyes, a smile spreading across my cheeks. He smiles back, and as the song ends, my vision tunnels in on him. How beautiful his dark skin glows in the rosy light. How his smile grows so big his teeth start to peek out from behind his lips. I don’t notice when the song ends, nor do I realize what I’m doing when I start leaning into him. I don’t think he registers that he’s leaning into me too, until a slurred voice cuts through us like a knife.

“Monty!” Richard yells, stumbling his way up to us. Percy and I jump apart like each of us just caught on fire. A new song begins. “How’ve you been?” he slurs, and I flinch at the smell of alcohol on his breath.  _ Calm down. It’s not him. It’s just Richard.  _

“Richard, you’re drunk,” Percy warns, but I catch the nervousness in his voice.

Richard flicks his hand at Percy to shoo him away. The gesture is so messy, if I wasn’t so well versed in deciphering every movement a drunk could make, I wouldn’t be able to tell what he was trying to achieve. “Fuck off, Newton. Nobody wants you here anyway.”

Percy’s nostrils flare and I put a hand on his arm. “Leave us alone. You don’t know what you’re saying,” I say.

“I’m fine, I can hold my liquor.” Richard melts a little, a devilish smile appearing on his face. “Where have you been? You haven’t come to visit in so long.”

All of the hair on my arms stands up straight and I feel my mouth drop open a little. Percy’s staring at me, evidently very confused. More than anything, I want to pull him away and run all the way home, but my feet are glued to the ground.

“Monty, what’s he talking about?” Percy asks, his brow furrowed.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby,” Richard purrs, setting his chin on my shoulder and smirking at Percy.

“ _ Baby?”  _ Percy snarls, his fists balled at his side. 

It’s all too much. The walls are closing in on me, the music getting too loud. I feel like my father will appear at any second to beat me into the ground for the mistake I’m in the process of making, just so I can know for sure that this is a nightmare. A nightmare that I can wake up from at any moment, safe in Percy’s arms upon our bed. But it’s real. Richard’s breath on my cheek, the fire in Percy’s eyes, it’s all real.

Through clenched teeth, I push him off my shoulder and growl, “Get off of me, right now.”

“Monty, what’s going on?” Percy pleads. I open my mouth to say something, but Richard speaks before I can.

“Jesus, don’t be so rough, Monty. You were asking for it.” 

What happens next is all a blur. All I feel is Percy shoving me away so hard I almost fall to the ground. My vision clears just in time to see his fist collide with Richard’s face. Percy keeps him from falling over by keeping his collar balled up in his fist. 

“ _ Fous-lui la paix, tu fils de pute! Ferme ta gueule et dégage, connard!”  _ Percy spits, and Richard is so out of it, all he can do is stare with wide eyes. I finally will my feet to move and rip Percy away from him. Everyone in the room is staring at us now. My face burns with shame as I drag Percy into the hallway as he hurls more rapid-fire French insults at Richard the entire way out. Hot tears burn in my eyes and I bite my lip hard enough to bleed in order to keep them in. My grip on his wrist is like iron as we make our way down the hall and toward the car. 

I throw myself in the front seat, slamming the door behind me. I’m burning from the inside out with rage. I was taking care of everything. Everything would have been fucking fine if he had just let me do what I needed to do. Now, both of our jobs are on the line, and I’m never going to be able to look any of my coworkers in the eye ever again. I hear Percy fall into the driver's end, slamming his door too. I don’t lift my eyes from where they’re fixed on the corner of the windshield.

We sit in silence for a second, before Percy sets his hands on the steering wheel, and yells a single, “ _ Fuck! _ ” He drops his head between his hands on the wheel. I finally break and look over at him. Most of his hair has fallen out of its knot on the back of his head, and his grip on the wheel is so tight, his knuckles are white. 

“Percy?” I whisper, slicing through the silence. He lifts his head up and turns the key in the ignition, starting the car. He doesn’t even spare me a glance.

The next time either of us speaks is about halfway through the drive. The entire time I’ve been staring at the same corner of the windshield. Every so often, a fresh wave of tears traces down the worn tracks on my cheeks. It feels as if I’m no longer present in my own body. Every bit of my attention is zeroed in on my thoughts, which are running a mile a minute. All of the smaller concerns are eventually trumped by the blaring siren pointing to the question: What now?

When Percy speaks next, it’s careful. Like he’s walking across an old bridge, where saying anything too daring will snap the ropes. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose, slowly out through his mouth. “How long has it been going on?” he asks, eyes hyper-focused on the road in front of him.

My head snaps over and I sit up straight in my seat, but it earns no reaction. “What are you talking about?”

He bites his lip and shifts his hands on the wheel. “Richard. How long have you t wo been-” he starts, but his voice breaks and he cuts off.

My brow furrows as my mouth drops open. “Percy, do you think I’m  _ cheating _ on you?” I cry.

He doesn’t say anything.

I slouch back in my seat, pushing my hair away from my forehead with my hand. “Oh my god! How could you even think that?”

He barks out a laugh and looks at me for a split second. “I don’t know, maybe because he was calling you baby? Would you like to explain that to me?”

“Just because we used to hook up doesn’t mean-”

He laughs again. “My god, you really did. I can’t  _ believe _ you.”

Now all of the anger from before comes rushing back in full force. The events from earlier start replaying in my mind, and I remember who got us into this mess. And it sure as hell wasn’t me. “Oh, do you need to monitor me now? Should I make a list of everyone I’ve ever hooked up with for you? Do you need their signatures, too? Maybe a section like ‘Please sign here to confirm that you’ve slept with my slut boyfriend.’ Sound good to you, Percy?” I snarl.

He huffs, nostrils flaring, as he turns onto our street... “Just stop, Monty. Perhaps I wouldn’t be so upset if you hadn't neglected to tell me that you’ve been  _ sleeping with our boss.” _ He emphasizes, pulling into the driveway and parking the car.

“ _ Used to!  _ God, when did it become my fault that nobody wanted to have sex with  _ you _ before me!” I yell, and the moment the words leave my mouth, I slap my hand over my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut. 

I hear a strangled sound come from him, and the knife in my heart starts to twist. I open my eyes, palm still pressed over my lips, and shift my gaze to the driver's side of the now-stopped car. Percy has his head tipped skyward, unshed tears coating the waterline of his eyes as they glisten in the moonlight. He, once again, has his bottom lip between his teeth. The first thing I think of as I take in the sight is that he doesn’t deserve this. I don’t care about the absolute bullshit he spews about me being “the one.” He shouldn’t be here with me. He needs someone who’s honest. Someone he deserves would never do this to him. Instead, Percy chose me, who led him all the way here, just to stomp on his heart. If he doesn’t believe I’m good enough for him anymore, I can stop pretending that I ever did.

A moment passes where it feels like neither of us even breathes. It’s one of the most torturous things I’ve ever endured. I couldn’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks from doing so if I tried. Eventually, Percy drops his hands into his lap, looking down at them and letting a few lonely tears drop down into his open palms. 

“Percy, I am  _ so  _ sorry. I didn’t mean it, I promise. I wasn’t thinking about-”

“I’m going to stay at my parents' house tonight,” he murmurs, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand. He sniffles, and the knife gives one final twist, then pulls away to reveal a gaping black hole in my chest. One that I’ve spent years trying to patch up and hide, out in the open for everyone to see.

“No, that’s- why are you-” I ramble, grasping at any possible straw to fix this mess I’ve made, bu t  deep down I know it’s too late.

He cements his lips together as he exhales, but it sounds more like a whimper than anything. “I think it would be best if we spent a little time apart,” he whispers, looking at me for the first time this entire fight.  _ Really  _ looking at me. That’s when my hard shatters because I know for sure he’s serious, and that he’s just as torn apart as I am.

The corners of my lips plunge downward as my lips involuntarily part. I close my mouth and swallow down the sob that’s clawing to see the light. I blink rapidly for a second before I speak. “In that case,” I clear my throat, “I’m going to stay at Jeanne’s. This is your apartment. I’m not going to kick you out. Give me a second to pack a bag, then I’ll be out of your hair,” I mumble.

He lets out a pained sigh as I open my own car door. As I go to step onto the concrete of the driveway, I feel Percy’s fingers gently wrap around my wrist. I wish I could let him pull me back into my seat, where we could forget all of this and fall back into our usual flirtation. As his eyes bore into the back of my skull, I take a breath in through my mouth and slide my hand out of his feather-light grasp.  _ Stay strong.  _ I lift my chin slightly and step out, shutting the door behind me and making my way up the driveway.

Once I unlock the door and step inside the house, Rhiannon prances up to greet me. She has her ball in her mouth, tail wagging delightedly, and I can’t help but to give her a scratch behind the ear. I take the ball from here and toss it across the room, wiping at my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. She watches the ball for a second, then looks back at me.

I gesture my arm toward the toy. “Well. Go ahead.”

She moves toward me, nuzzling her face into my leg. I frown, petting her a couple more times on her head. I slide out from behind her and stumble into the bedroom. When I turn around, I see that she’s followed me. 

I sort of just stand in front of our dresser for a while. Percy never told me how long he wants me gone. He said “a little time”, so maybe a month or two? I grab a duffel bag from the closet and start stuffing my entire side of the underwear drawer into it. Best to be safe, just in case this ends up being permanent, I don’t want my underthings to be swimming around in his drawer forever. By that logic, shouldn’t I just take everything with me? I sling the bag over my shoulder while I think about it, and Rhiannon slinks over to sit by my feet.

I put my hands on my hips and look down at her. “Babe, I’m on a bit of a time crunch here.”

She looks up at me with her big brown eyes and nudges my ankle with her nose. I roll my eyes and crouch down to pet her. When I do, she walks up behind me and sets her head over my shoulder. She twists so her body is as close to me as possible, and I raise my hand to pet her. As I do so, I realize that not only have I lost the love of my life, I’m also not going to see his dog for a very long time. I’m going to think about the Friday nights spent cuddled up on the couch watching whatever stupid movie Percy chose. Fresh tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I hold her tighter as they spill down. Eventually, I realize that I am in fact on a time limit and that I need to get my shit packed and ready to go. 

I stand and wipe my hands on my pants with a sigh. I open each drawer and randomly stuff a couple of my pieces in the bag from each one. Until I come across the one where we keep our sweatshirts. I put one of my own in the bag without a second thought, but my hand hovers over one of Percy’s. Due to our height difference, Jeanne is definitely going to know if it’s not mine, which will only result in shame. Then again, the nights will be lonely and it will smell of him, so I glance over my shoulder and stuff it into the bag. I slide my blanket off the bed, folding it over my arm.

When everything is packed, I stop in the doorway of our bedroom and try to memorize every last crevice and knick-knack. There’s no way of telling whether I’ll return here in Percy’s arms, or if I’ll only be back to get the rest of my stuff in boxes. I push my thoughts into the realm of option one, but they drift, and they’ve been doing so all night long. My thoughts drift even further into the vivid memory of Percy earlier tonight. The way he clenched his fists as Richard referred to me like his pet, the rage in his eyes while he screamed in his face. I never want to see Percy like that ever again. I hate myself for even entertaining it, but the idea that it made him look like my father racks my brain. I know Percy would never lay a finger on me, but I don’t want him to do so to anyone else, especially our boss, in my name. We aren’t thirteen years old, there are real consequences now. I wonder what his parents will think of me now. Their son’s slutty boyfriend who sleeps around too much and makes their kid punch people for him. 

I float into the hallway with my bag slung over my shoulder and my blanket over my arm. When I reach the living room, I notice Percy made his way in from the car. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch with his face in his hands. His shoulders are shaking, but no sound comes from his direction. Too much crying tonight. My heart is screaming at me to go take his hand and comfort him, and it takes all my strength to resist that magnetic pull. When he hears me entering the room, he tilts his head up, then shoots to his feet. 

_ Eyes forward. Just walk toward the door. Do not look at him. _ I’ve got my hand on the front doorknob when he speaks to me.

“Monty,” he breathes, his voice scratchy. It’s meek and pleading. I feel another imaginary knife nearing my heart, but I wave it off.  _ All these years of training yourself to not to feel, and the moment you need that training the most, it materializes.  _

I stare at him blankly.

He runs a hand through his messy curls, then drops it to his side. “This is only temporary.”

I turn the knob and am about to open the door when he stops me in my tracks.

“I love you,” he says, more sure, like it was the thing he was put on this earth to do. I freeze, yearning to turn back and collapse into his arms. But I don’t. I open the door and walk out without so much as a glance back. 

============================================================================

  
  


Rain is pounding down on me as I step up to Jeanne’s doorstep an hour later. My drive over was blurred by tears and the flat static that’s been sizzling in my head since the moment I stepped out of the apartment. Trying to think about anything but Percy and how much I already miss him is useless. Every time I close my eyes I see him, but not the version I just left behind. I see him shuffling around our kitchen making dinner, or laying next to me in our bed early in the morning, tracing my cheekbones with the tip of his finger. Each memory that plays back was happy at the time but feels mocking now. My brain keeps pelting me with visions of what I’ve lost, and I don’t think it’s going to stop any time soon.

Shielding the screen with my hand, I pull out my phone to text Jeanne that I’m here, and I need her to let me in. Once it’s delivered, I shove the phone back into my pocket and turn my face to the sky. The freezing cold rain washes the tears off my face and numbs my nose. Percy and I both left our coats at Amelia’s when we left, so my wet blouse clings to my body. Oh god, I really think I’ll die if she brings mine to work on Monday. That would mean I have to talk to her and _apologize_ for the fact that I ruined her party. If I even have a job come Monday, that is. I can’t lose this job. I have nowhere else to go and right now, it’s all I have going for me. Maybe I’ll even get a call from my father to gloat about the fact that he was right about me never getting anywhere in life. _I need a drink._

The top lock on the door clicks and my head snaps over. I desperately try to wipe off my face, but I’m soaking wet everywhere. The knob turns and the door swings open.

Jeanne is wearing a giant hoodie with shorts underneath just long enough to be visible under it. She has her long, blonde hair knotted up in a bun on the top of her head, held back by a black headband. She pays no attention to me at first, scrolling on her phone and gesturing for me to come into the house. I open my mouth to say something after a beat, but no sound escapes, and she looks up. 

Her face contorts and she pulls me through the doorway. “Jesus Christ, Monty! What the hell were you thinking? It’s thirty-eight degrees out and you’re standing there in the rain-” she stops running her hands up and down my arms and sandwiches my face between her hands. “Monty, are you crying?”

The potential energy in my core snaps like a rubber band, shooting a sharp twang of emotion straight at my heart. The dam shatters, and I don’t even try to say something coherent this time. I just start to cry. Her eyebrows raise and she yanks me onto a hug, holding my head to her shoulder. After a second to register that I’m safe in the arms of someone who cares about me, the sobbing starts. Huge, ugly, gut-wrenching sobs to the point where no sound even comes out. My legs almost give out as I wrap my arms around her.

She pulls us over to her couch and guides me down to sit. She sits down next to me, taking my hand in hers and holding it between us. At this point, the silent sobbing has turned loud and painful. I lean forward as I wail as if I’m screaming at the air itself. I can’t tell what she's doing anymore. She could’ve gotten up and left, for all I know. The beautiful scenes start to flip rapidly through my brain as my vision blackens around the edges, slowly creeping inward. The only thing I can hear is Percy’s voice, telling me over and over how he loves me, or how he wants to be with me forever. I can’t feel Jeanne’s hands over mine anymore, numbness flowing from my fingertips up my arms. Just Percy. Percy, Percy, Percy, as if nothing ever happened.

Next thing I know, there’s a hand on the back of my head shoving it down to rest on my knees. Jeanne strokes my hair gently, and Percy’s voice shifts into hers, telling me to breathe. I gulp in several huge mouthfuls of air, and the feeling in my arms slowly returns. Then Percy is completely gone, and I’m back.

Jeanne sets her hand on my knee and looks me in the eyes. “I’m going to go get you a towel. I see you have a bag there, do you want to change?” she asks, in an overly kind and soft tone. I nod meekly in response, and she walks off to the bathroom.

Once she’s gone, I glance at a random spot on the rug, and can’t pull my eyes away. The same thoughts that have been running through my mind in circles since the fight continue to do so. I’ve cried more in the past couple of hours than I have in my entire life. My throat feels like it’s been stripped dry. As I calm down even more, the coldness of my soaking wet clothes starts to set in. I reach for my bag on the floor and throw it open. On top of the pile is Percy’s sweatshirt. It’s the big forest green one. It says  _ Princeton _ in big, cracked white letters. It was his father’s from the nineties when he went there. Listen, I know it sounds shitty for me to steal my boyfriend’s hoodie from his father, but it’s not some family heirloom or anything. He lets me wear it all the time. I lift it up and hold it in my hands for a second before setting it beside me to dig through the bag some more. I come across a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of my own and bring them to my lap. I toss Percy’s hoodie in the bag and go to zip it up, but my hand lingers on it. Jeanne walks back in with a towel while I do so. 

“Sorry  _ ma cherie,  _ I was doing laundry when you showed up. At least the towel’s nice and warm,” she says, holding it out to me. 

I look up blankly from the bag, grabbing the towel and placing it over the clothes on my lap. 

Jeanne sits down next to me on the couch. “What have you got there?” she asks softly.

My eyes flit up to hers, then back to the sweatshirt. “I brought it over from the apartment. It’s-” my voice cracks, “It’s Percy’s. I uh- we’re not doing good right now,” I say, blinking rapidly.

She sets a hand on my shoulder. “Go get changed, then we’ll talk.”

  
  
  


When I come back from the bathroom, Jeanne has two cups of tea set on the table in front of the couch. There’s a towel over the giant wet imprint of my body on the couch. I sit down over the towel and lean against the back of the couch, closing my eyes. A spoon clinks against porcelain, and I open one of my eyes to see her stirring her tea with a concerned look on her face.

“Do I have to talk about it?” I ask, running a hand over my face.

She taps the spoon on the edge of the mug and sets it on the table. “It’ll be easier for me to understand what’s going on if you did.” I groan and she puts her hand on my shoulder. “Did something, in particular, happen that caused it?”

I let out a hollow laugh as she takes a sip of the tea. “Well, Percy punched Richard Peele in the face, so that’s something.”

She chokes on it, then coughs once and wipes her mouth. “Oh my god. How the hell did  _ that  _ happen?”

I cover my eyes with the back of my hand. “He didn’t exactly  _ know  _ about the whole Richard thing…”

She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Go on.”

“We went to Amelia Wickham’s Valentine’s party and danced for a minute, then Richard got drunk and came over to us. He was being touchy with me, putting his chin on my shoulder, nothing more than that I promise, then he said I was asking for it when I pushed him off and-”

Her head shoots up. “Excuse me? He said  _ what  _ to you? Monty, even if he wasn’t your boss that’s completely out of line,” she says, French accent in full swing. Jeanne’s accent gets more prevalent the more emotive she is, like my father. She’s lived in America since she was twelve, but she was born in Paris. She’s got a bit of an accent all the time, but it’s the strongest when she’s excited, angry, or shocked. A couple of years ago, our group of friends went down to the shore for a day, and she couldn’t stop saying how excited she was to go to the “bitch”. She gets peeved when we tease her about her accent, but that has never stopped us.

“You don’t think I know that?” I snap, and she lowers her eyes, making me feel ten times worse. “Sorry, I’m just-” I push my hair away from my forehead. 

“Take your time,” she says, handing me my mug.

I stir it a little, then have a sip. “Thank you. Um, after that, Percy shoved me out of the way and then punched him.” Jeanne nods for me to continue. “And then I pulled him away and we went home. We fought in the car, and I said something really bad and he said we should spend some time apart,” I finish, biting my lip and closing my eyes again.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Do you… could you maybe tell me what you said?”

I wipe at my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. “Do I  _ have  _ to?” She doesn’t say anything, but she purses her lips and shrugs, which tells me all I need to know. The now-dry mask all over her face is cracking and ashen. I sigh and cover my eyes again. “I kind of said something about how it’s not my fault nobody wanted to have sex with him before me,” I ramble. 

When she doesn’t respond, I slowly slide my hand down my face to see her sitting there with a slack jaw and a raised eyebrow. “What… made you think that was a good idea?”

“Well, he was slut-shaming me for fucking our boss and-” 

She drops her head into her hands.

“-and now he hates me for it and I- I don’t know what to do Jeanne.” I look at her with fresh tears in my eyes and she glances up at me. When she notices my “I’m about to start crying again” expression, she sits up and sets a hand on my knee. “I love him  _ so much  _ and it’s  _ over.  _ I ruined it, just like everything fucking else, I ruined it. And I made him cry, and I-”

“Monty, please slow down, okay? Breathe. You can’t blame yourself completely for this.” I open my mouth to say something, but she ignores me. “Yes, you fucked up. I can’t deny it. But he fucked up too, and you need to realize that.”

I laugh once. “So him punching someone for coming onto me is just as bad as me sleeping with our boss, not telling him, and then shaming him for not being a whore is just as bad? I shouldn’t even be mad at him, he did me a favor.”

“Did you tell him to punch Peele?”

I shift my eyes downward. “No.”

“And was he slut-shaming you?”

“Well, not  _ technically-” _

“But he still made you feel like shit, yes?”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

She takes my hand and looks me in the eyes. “Then he hurt you. And you hurt him. You may not be ready to accept that yet, but know it. Know that he isn’t a saint in this.”

I smile halfheartedly at her. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t thank me,  _ ma cherie _ .” She squeezes my hand. “I’m assuming you need somewhere to stay. Lucky for you, I just cleaned up the guest bedroom, so you’ll sleep in there.”

I run a hand through my hair. “That’s not- I don’t know how long this is going to last.”

“Monty, you can stay here as long as you need.” She gestures to the air around her. “I didn’t spend all that money on this house for it to stay empty it’s whole life.” The first thing she did after receiving her family’s inheritance is buy the house she'd been talking about ever since high school. Every time we would walk past it, she would say, “Monty, that’s my house.” She lived with her Grandma for years because her parents kicked her out. Soon after her Grandma’s death, her parents passed away too, and she inherited every penny they had. And her parents were  _ loaded.  _ She’ll never have to work a day in her life if she doesn’t want to. “Plus, I’ve never had a roommate, and it seems nice.”

“It’s not.”

“Okay, well, you’re my best friend, so we’re going to make it work.”

I roll my eyes. “You say that now, but in a month-”

“I think you two will have made up in a month,” she says, genuinely.

“Not sure about that one-”

“Monty, he’s head over heels for you. We all see it. You don’t see the way he looks at you when nobody’s looking. Sinjon is a judgy bitch, you know he pays attention to these things.”

I sigh. “I know, but that was before.”

She rolls her eyes. “Love doesn’t just end because of one fight. Couples fight all the time.”

“Most couples don’t have one half who slept with their boss”

“Sure they do.” She waves her hand flippantly. “Happens all the time.”

“Yes, but-” I scoff.

“Couples fight. If they love each other, they make up and come back stronger. You love him, yes?”

“Too much,” I sigh, moving forward to rest my chin on my hand.

“No such thing,” she shrugs. She pauses and looks into my eyes. “It’s going to work out.”

I wipe at my eyes again, sniffling as I do. “Thank you.”

There’s a glimmer of hope that shines over my heart in that moment, which disappears as the light it reflected moves past. The spiel is finished. Asking her to repeat it again would be useless. It’s not like I really, truly believe her. I want to, but it just can't work that way. Every time the protective shield I’ve built around my heart is picked away with a kind word or gentle touch, I mend it back even stronger with the persistent thought that it’s all on borrowed time. I’ve been told many times, in many different scenarios, that I’m a good actor. But I don’t know how I can fake this one.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings!
> 
> -unwanted advance: drops chin on shoulder, gets pushed off  
> -claims that a character was "asking for" unwanted advance  
> -panic attack  
> -implied child abuse
> 
> see ya later >:) !


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short and not good uhhhh leave kudos and a comment if ye dare no tw for this one
> 
> see ya later!

I’ve had my fair share of terrible weekends. Whether I spent it suffering the effects of a hangover or studying for an exam, they haven’t all been perfect. This situation, however, tops the list by  _ far.  _ What was supposed to be a romantic first Valentine’s with my (ex?) boyfriend ended up as a pathetic night of crappy teen dramas and ice cream straight from the carton. They need to start breaking the news to teens that love doesn’t last forever. That magical first kiss on the football field will only end with you and that dream guy from algebra stomping on each other’s hearts, then going separate ways because you slept with your boss. Well, maybe not  _ exactly  _ that, but you understand the sentiment. 

The heat in my car is blasting on high on my drive to work. It’s one of the coldest days we have had in a while. The radio is off. At every stop sign, I imagine I’ll look over and see Percy in the passenger's seat with the same look on his face as when I snapped at him. Alas, every seat in the car except for my own is empty. I huff through my nose and turn the heat down.

Walking through the halls right now is one of the most humiliating things I’ve ever had to do. The closest comparison I can make is stumbling out of a stranger’s apartment into the bright light of the morning, extremely hungover. I feel invisible eyes on me at every turn. The doors along the wall are closed, and anyone else in the halls is completely focused on their coffee or something on their phone. That is until I round the corner and bump straight into Amelia. 

“Sorry, I didn’t- oh. Hello, Monty,” she says carefully. 

Listen, I didn’t think I would be able to avoid her forever. That would be completely stupid, seeing that we work in the same building and cross paths multiple times a day. But really? Before work even starts? 

“Hi.” I adjust my bag on my shoulder and try to push past her, but she grabs my arm gently.

“I’m really sorry about what happened on Friday. I should have- he was drunk, I should have-” She scratches at the top of her hand.

I watch for a second. I don’t blame her for what happened. Not at all. But if we had just stayed home, all of this could have been avoided. “You didn’t know,” I mumble. She looks at me with eyes the size of dinner plates and ceases the scratching. “It’s not your fault.”

She drops her hands to her sides. “I should have caught on that he was drunk and sent him home. Called for someone to take him home, or something.”

“Amelia, he’s a grown man. He should know his limits. You didn’t sign up to be his babysitter.” Every word coming out stings. My mind is shoving the memory of his breath against my cheek and his chin on my shoulder to the forefront of my thoughts. 

She chews at her lip. “Tell Percy I’m sorry. I knew Richard,” she whispers his name, “has always been a tool. I would have punched him too if he was coming onto my boyfriend.”

“Oh, Percy and I haven’t talked in-” I start, then blink and shake my head. “Wait, what did you just say?”

A mild grin stretches across his lips. “You two aren’t as subtle as you think you are. I never knew you were gay.”

I run a hand through my hair. “I’m not gay. Well, not completely- or, no. I’m bisexual, actually. Does- Does everyone know?”

She tilts her hand back and forth. “Kind of. Don’t stress over it. I won’t tell. What a shame for Percy, though.” She purses her lips with pity, and a pit forms in my stomach.

“What… do you mean?”

Her face pales, which makes her orange freckles stand out even more than normal. “You haven’t heard? I thought he would have told you.”

“We aren’t talking right now,” I say, then huff. “Haven’t heard what?”

“Monty, he’s suspended. Richard’s looking into, you know-” She points a thumb over her shoulder. I’m getting ready to speak, probably to say something about how badly I’d like to kick Richard’s teeth in, one time for every perfectly aligned tooth in his dumb fucking mouth, but the warning bell for the teachers to get in their room rings.

She pats my shoulder. “I hope you feel better soon,” she says, then walks off past me. 

I stand there in a shock for a minute after she leaves. I got Percy fired. Or rather,  _ Richard  _ got him fired. This is  _ his  _ fault. I was going to end up telling Percy about my “relationship” with Richard eventually, but it would have been on our own time. I know how much Percy loves this job, and though it’s not completely my doing, I still feel responsible for jeopardizing it. When I talk to him next, not that I know when that is, I want that to be the first thing I apologize for. Among everything else I have to say to him, which there is a lot of. Every night since the fight I’ve stayed awake early into the morning thinking about all the things I would say if he showed up at the door right then. Every time the doorbell rings, my heart jumps at the notion that it could be him, but it never is. I was anticipating our reunion for  _ today _ , and albeit awkward, it would have been  _ something _ . That’s all I can hope for these days. A “something”.

A door a little down the hall slams shut, and I flinch at the sound. The haze is broken, so I scoff at myself and jog off to my classroom to wait for my students.

============================================================================

I shuffle through the school day carefully. Avoiding eyes in the hallway, staying in my room during every break. Eventually, the dismissal bell rings and everyone files out. I don’t get up from my desk, even after the classroom is empty. I have so much to do, but I feel as though there’s no reason for it. In the long run, will it even matter? A month ago, I would be beating myself up for falling behind. I’ve been trying to do the same now, but I can’t bring myself to care enough to even feel ashamed of myself for something as little as this. My time is preoccupied with being ashamed of Friday. Maybe I can pay Felicity to help grade some of my to-do pile. 

Nobody other than me, Jeanne, Percy, and now Amelia know about our falling out. I’m sure my other friends will understand, or at least try to. They trust me with their problems, but most of their problems aren’t as completely embarrassing as this. I think I’ll die if sides have to be picked. To my knowledge, Percy doesn’t really talk to my friends all that often when I’m not around, with the exception of Sim. They’ve gotten on extremely well in the time they’ve known each other. It’s possible that she knows about the fight. Which means Felicity probably knows too, being her roommate. I’ll deal with that later. All of it, later.

The shrill ring of my room-phone pierces the air. With an eye roll, I pick up the receiver. “Hello?” I’ve given up trying to hide my unsavory tone, so it comes across worse than anticipated.

I can hear Richard’s sigh from across the line. “I need to see you in my office.”

My chair squeaks as I lean back. “Okay, that’s fine.”

“Now, please,” he says, and I slam the phone back on its port without giving an answer.

Peele’s office has walls painted gray, an awkward shade too light to be dark and too dark to be light. The lamp in the corner is dim, the air cold. I cross my arms, stuffing my hands beneath them. The best atmospheric comparison to his office is a super-villain’s lair. It makes me feel even more sympathy than I already did for any child who has to come here for behavioral issues.

He looks up from his book when he hears me enter the room. It’s one of the ones you find in the dollar-bin of the store: something about success and how to achieve it. I press my lips together at the sight. “Please, sit down.”

I narrow my eyes at him and pull out the plastic chair seated in front of the desk. 

“I’d like to apologize for how I acted on Friday,” he says, but I can tell by the way his lips purse that it’s completely insincere.

“Too little, too late,” I sneer.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’d like me to say. The punishment for your coworker’s actions was appropriately dealt with as well, if you were wondering.”

The mocking in his voice on the word  _ coworker  _ makes me want to punch him myself, right on the giant, poorly covered, purple bruise on his cheek. “I wasn’t wondering.”

“Monty, you know the policy on workplace relationships. And  _ violence _ , that’s a whole different story. He got what was coming to him.”

_ So did you,  _ I think. “Hypocritical, don’t you think? To bring up the workplace relationships  _ now?  _ You didn’t seem to be complaining when I had my mouth around your-”

“Enough!” he interrupts. “He’s gone. This school has no tolerance for violence.”

My face twists. “I was told he was suspended.”

Richard shakes his head with a sick smile on his face. “Oh, no. I’ve decided that it is for the best that he won't return here.”

My fingernails dig into my palms and I bite my lip to keep myself from losing  _ my  _ job too. No more mid-day lunches or stolen kisses after dismissal. Not even a chance of it.

I can see him hiding a grin. “Perhaps you could help in the consideration for new applicants to that position. You seem to have quite a good eye for it. Finding replacements, I mean.”

Right then, I shoot up from the chair. My bag swings at my side and I clench the strap in my hand so hard, the skin stretched over my knuckles turns white. I point, and open my mouth to say something. Literally anything. My skin is burning, hot rage seething over every inch. I furrow my brow and pivot stupidly fast on my heel. Without so much as a thought to look back, I storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. 

There’s no way he actually believes that all my relationship with Percy was was just a replacement. A stand-in for the nights that he was busy to talk or meet up. As if I ever felt about him the way I felt, still feel, about Percy. Every day spent with Percy builds me up from the rubble that Richard left behind. The thought of ever having something with Richard ever again makes me gag. I don’t deserve much, but Richard is a low even I shouldn’t be stuck with. 

That sounds dramatic. Percy and I have only been together for a little more than three months. However, that doesn’t stop me from knowing everything I need to know about us. A gut feeling that the person you’re with is the one you’re intended for. I’ve heard that thought so many times throughout my life, whether it was in a song, from my friends, or even in one of the cheesy poetry books that Jeanne keeps around her house. I always thought it was stupid, until Percy. With each breath he takes I’m even more sure that yes, he is the person I want to spend all of my waking moments with. What makes everything about that infinitely worse, is that I’m equally sure that he doesn’t feel the same. At least not anymore.

============================================================================

The rest of the week after my confrontation with Richard seems to blur together. What feels like years later, it brings me here. It’s Saturday, which means that it’s officially been over a week since Percy and I’s fight. I don’t think there could’ve been a shittier day for it to have landed on. What a twisted, entirely unfunny joke it is that I spent what was supposed to be our first Valentine’s day together alone in the guest bedroom of my best friend’s house while she went out with a group of her friends. I was invited to tag along, but I think she knew just as well as I did how stupid of an idea that would be. I don’t know these friends of hers, seeing that she met them in college, so it would have been awkward in that respect alone. Not to mention the fact that I was completely inconsolable for the entirety of the day, locking myself away like a recluse. Jeanne and I haven’t talked about any of it since the night I showed up at her doorstep. Sometimes, I’ll hear her footsteps approach my door, stall for a second, then continue on. There is one thing worse than crying itself, and that’s someone  _ seeing _ you do so. 

  
  


A sweet piano melody drifts through the sitting room from the kitchen where Jeanne is cooking us breakfast. She specializes in baking, but her parents enrolled her in traditional cooking classes the second she was old enough to see over the counter. She’s complained to me about it before, explaining how it's all a load of sexist bullshit that she had to spend her time in the kitchen growing up while her step-brother can barely make toast. I know that she’s somewhat grateful for it though, since it introduced her to her “calling”, as she likes to say. Quite a useful calling, at that. 

“ _ C'est fini, ma chérie!" _ she calls. I can comprehend what she’s saying due to my many years of forced french lessons, but my impulse to be an asshole trumps all.

“English, please. You know I haven’t studied since I was still being graded for it,” I say, walking into the dining room and immediately contradicting my lie about not understanding her.

She hums, setting the table and sitting down across from me. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

I make a show of blowing all over the eggs on the plate in front of me and she rolls her eyes. We eat to the sole sound of piano music for a while, until I clear my throat and set down my fork. “At what point do you think I should start looking for a new place?”

She leans back in her chair and looks up to the ceiling. I hear her mumble something under her breath. When she sits back forward, there's a pitiful smile on her face. “Monty, forgive me if this is rude, but you’ve been apart for a week.”

I gesture for her to continue. “And? Where are you going with this?”

“A week is nothing. If you start looking right now, what will you do once you two make up?”

I laugh hollowly. “ _ If  _ we make up.”

She drops her cheek down to rest on her fist. “Stupid boy. Have you said anything to him?” I turn my eyes down to the table, and I hear her scowl. “How do you think this will get solved if you don’t  _ try _ to solve it?”

I shrug my shoulders hopelessly. “I don’t  _ know.  _ I was kind of expecting him to make the first move. He tends to be better at starting things.”

“I’m thinking that that may not be the best school of thought.”

“And why do you say that?”

It’s her turn to shrug now. “I tend to find that it’s best to initiate the things you want to see done. Take things into your own hands.”

“You think too much of me.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think so. I know you want this over with. I bet he does too. So why do you wait?”

I hadn’t thought about this. I’ve just been assuming this entire time that he would come to me and this whole thing would be solved. It’s not his responsibility to always be the one to come to my rescue. Maybe I just don’t want to show up at the wrong time and make everything worse. It’s the thing I’m best at after all is said and done. I don’t know how much longer I can go, though. Eventually, I’ll cave and run back into his arms, god knows I want to, but when? Would it even be right for me to come back after pushing him to want to leave? Emotional intelligence has never been a virtue I’ve possessed, but this is a new low.

I shrug again and nudge my food with the side of my fork. “I’m just going to wait a bit longer. I need more time.”

“Take as long as you need. 

I nod, and we finish eating in silence. Outward silence, seeing that my brain is pelts me with a million different paths to take from here with every breath I take. 

============================================================================

  
  


I’m in the middle of taking a nap when Jeanne knocks on the door to the guest bedroom. It’s been hours since breakfast, and lunch, for that matter. Last night wasn’t wonderful for me, seeing that I spent its entirety staring at the wall of my bedroom, thinking about everything I shouldn’t have said exactly a week before. Four hours of sleep isn’t the best. Knowing this, forgive me for being a bit angry after being woken up from a desperately needed nap. 

Jeanne bursts into my room screaming at me like it’s the end of the world. My soul leaves my body when her voice cracks through my dream like a whip. “Monty, wake up  _ right now _ !” she shrieks, in a highly accented voice.

I sit up so fast, I overshoot and almost hit my forehead on my knees. “What? What the fuck is going on?” I yell back, throwing my legs around to hang over the side of the bed. 

She points wildly in the direction of the living room. “There’s- Someone’s at the door!”

Suddenly, I’m wide awake. “Jeanne,  _ who  _ is at the door?”

Her eyes widen and she starts pointing again. “Go!” she says, then slips down the hallway.

I sigh as I get up from the stupidly comfortable guest bed and stretch. When I pass the mirror, I run my hand through my hair a few times, then watch my reflection as I take a deep breath. I’m praying that Jeanne is just being dramatic about a package being delivered, or a stray cat, but I know I wouldn’t get that lucky.

Golden, evening sunlight streams through the windows of the hall and turns the walls a warm orange color. My heart seems to beat harder in my chest with each step I take closer to the door. When I finally make it to the living room, I expect Jeanne to be sitting on the couch, watching the door, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I take a breath with my hand on the cool knob, then squeeze my eyes shut and swing it open.

I scrunch my nose when the person on the doorstep stays silent. Without thinking, I peek open one eye. Percy is staring back at me with an extremely confused look on his face. My other eye opens as I make a high pitched surprised noise and slam the door in his face. I stare at the wooden engravings with wide eyes, hyper focused on one of it’s curves while sirens go off in my head. A tentative knock comes through and I pick a spot in the corner of the room to stare at while I open the door.

“Hi,” Percy says.

“Hi.”

My eyes drift down to his and we’re silent for an eternity, not knowing what to do next. Everything I planned to say to him goes up in smoke and forms the words  _ What now?  _ over our heads. 

Percy clears his throat. “Can I- Can we talk?” I blink at him like an idiot, then nod and step out of the house to stand next to him on the step, pulling the door shut behind me. “I would rather do it at home, if that’s okay with you.”

Home, as in  _ our  _ home. I bite my lip and nod again.

When we finally arrive at the apartment after a painfully awkward car ride, Rhiannon runs up to me the moment I step through the door. I kneel down to her level and catch her in my arms, petting her back as she paws at my shoulders. I laugh, and the tension in the room lifts for just a second but deepens once she runs around the corner to her room. Percy’s eyes bore into the back of my neck, and I stand up to clear my throat and rub my hands off on my pants. He looks at me in a way I can’t read, before walking over to the couch and gesturing for me to follow. I do, and we sit a reasonable distance apart. And by that, I mean on opposite ends.

I pick a spot on my jeans to look at while I speak. “Did anything good happen here while I was gone?” I mumble, and it is quite possibly the  _ worst  _ way to start this conversation.  _ Really? Of course good shit happened, you weren’t there! Dumbass! _

I hear the telltale scratch of him running his fingers through his hair, but I don’t look up. “I uh- I wouldn’t really _know_ exactly,” he stammers.

Against my will, my eyes flit up and meet his. “What… does that mean?”

He takes a breath. “I’ve been staying at my parent’s house.”

My nose scrunches. “Why? That’s why I- I’ve been at Jeanne’s so that you didn’t  _ have  _ to do that.”

“I didn’t want to sleep here without you,” he rushes, then rubs a hand over his face. “I tried the first night, but I couldn’t-“ he cuts off.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

A moment passes where neither of us says anything. The hum of the fridge drifts in from the kitchen. It’s familiar, which is probably what gives me the courage to say what I say next. “I didn’t want to leave,” I say, my voice just above a whisper.”

The statement hangs above us for a beat. “I didn’t want you to either. I think that at the beginning I did, but when you actually left,” he swallows, “I fell apart. I laid in bed for hours after. The pillow still smelled like you- I didn’t sleep for a second.” 

I pick at my nails in my lap, focusing on them. “Yeah I didn’t- It was hard for me too. Ask Jeanne. Actually, don’t. It’s- Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.”

Then we’re silent again. We’ve never had this problem before. Usually, our conversations flow for so long, we have to cut ourselves off. This time, it’s like I’m talking to a stranger. Even before we started dating, it was never this bad. There’s a question at the back of my throat, pleading to come out. On one hand, asking it would start another movement of the conversation, which would be better than this. On the other, it might end up with me walking back to Jeanne’s house with my tail between my legs, sure that everything is over for good. I’m not sure which is worse. Knowing for sure where we stand, or this awkward limbo we’re stuck in.

I take a deep breath. In for four, out for four. My eyes stay on my lap. “Do you want me to go pack the rest of my stuff now?”

A light gasp comes from his direction. I force myself not to look out of fear of the growing lump in my throat. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

The words punch at my gut. It really is over. All of it. What do people even do to move on from something like this? I can’t stay at Jeanne’s forever, no matter what she says. I’ll find a new apartment, one with a big bathtub that I can get absolutely wasted in and hardwood floors. Wine would stain the carpet. There will be a bed just big enough for whoever I bring into it after a night at the bar. 

Tears prick at my eyes as I push myself up from the couch. I keep my chin up and try to walk past him as quickly as possible toward the bedroom. I think I’ve made it when his hand grabs mine, keeping me in my spot like an anchor. I finally give in, and my head snaps around. I really look at him for the first time since I walked out on him.  _ Really  _ look at him. There are heavy bags under his eyes and his curls shine with grease, as if he hasn’t showered in a couple of days. I can’t bring myself to think of him as anyone other than the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, even in this state.

He squeezes my hand in his. “That’s not what I meant. I mean I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for not listening, and- and punching Richard, and I’m the sorriest about saying what I did in the car. I don’t think of you like that, I promise.”

I turn to face him, not letting go. “You shouldn’t have to apologize. I started the whole thing, it’s my fault.  _ I’m  _ sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have hit him. You said you could handle it, and I didn’t listen. If I had just let you take care of it-”

I squeeze his hand on reflex. “Thank you for saying that, but even if you hadn’t hit him, it wouldn’t have been solved. I should’ve told you about our fling earlier. I swear to you, it  _ never  _ happened when we were together. It wasn’t- It wasn’t love. It was an addiction. He was a quick fix whenever something bad happened, he- he wasn’t like you.”

“I wish you would have told me. I wouldn’t have been happy about it then either, but we could have worked on it. You _ could’ve _ told me. You can tell me anything.” He puts his other hand over mine, and I look down at them, then back to his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking straight at the party. It doesn’t matter who you were with before, I just wish I would have known. I’m sorry for thinking you were cheating on me. I know you wouldn’t.”

I walk around to sit next to him, closer than before. Our hands are clasped together as they rest on my leg. “But you  _ didn’t  _ know. When we got together, you asked me to be honest, and I wasn’t. You couldn’t have known what was really going on. And I don’t care whether or not you’ve been with anyone before me. I know what I said in the car. I was so mad at you, I didn’t mean it. The only thing that I care about right now is being yours, if you’ll have me.”

He takes his right hand off of the top of the stack and cups my jaw gently. “I never stopped loving you, Monty. I don’t think I can.”

“Me either,” I whisper.

I watch his eyes flit down to my lips. I look down at his and swallow. Before I can open my mouth to say something, he looks me dead in the eyes and whispers, “Can I kiss you?” 

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I find myself vaulting forward to kiss him, hard. The hand that isn’t cupping my jaw splays across my back, grabbing a handful of my shirt and pulling me closer to him. The kiss isn’t heavy, or deep breathed. There is passion to it, but it’s slow and easy. It’s not questioning like the rest of our actions throughout our conversation. Instead, it’s like an answer. I’m content with the sweetness of it. We have time for everything else. 

We don’t pull away immediately, and once we do, I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my cheek on his shoulder.

“I missed you.”

I smile to myself and toy with a curl on the back of his head. “I missed you too.”

He pulls me away and runs his hands up and down my arms. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

A smile passes over his lips for a second, but it’s gone in an instant as he regains seriousness. “I need you to promise me that there are no more secrets. There is absolutely nothing you ever have to hide from me.”

“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay. No more secrets.”

“There’s something else. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” My face must twist or change in some way because he brings one hand up to rest on my cheek. “Don’t worry.” 

I nod, and he takes a deep breath. “You- You say a lot how you believe you’re not good enough for me, or that you don’t deserve what we have. I don’t want you to think that way anymore.” His eyes search mine and I nod again for him to continue. “I know that I could tell you not to think like that a million times and you still will. I understand that. I just want you to know that that’s not the case. I do love you, so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t worry about ‘what I deserve’ because this isn’t about that. I don’t care if we don’t deserve each other because I love you and I love what we’ve made. Whether you think it’s what I deserve or not doesn’t matter, because it’s what I  _ want _ .  _ You’re  _ what I want.” 

He runs his thumb over my cheek gently. There’s so much life in his eyes as he looks at me. I can see our entire future in them. A house, a real one, bigger than this tiny apartment. I see myself growing old and still learning something new about him every day. Maybe we’ll get another dog, or a cat. What I know for sure, is that it will be better. We’ll grow with time, ebbing and flowing,  _ together. _

I lean forward and touch my nose to his. “Okay.”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles. “Yeah?”

“It may take a while, but I’ll get there. I trust you, and I trust that you’re telling me the truth.” 

He pulls away to look into my eyes with a gentle smile. “I love you.”

“And I you, my darling,” I grin, then close the distance between us.

He kisses me back for a while, then pulls away. I whine and chase after his lips, which makes him giggle. “Slow down, Romeo. We have to get your stuff from Jeanne’s.”

“So you want me to stay?” I ask. 

Percy shakes his head with a laugh. “You didn’t take that away from the conversation?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly  _ clarify _ -”

He gestures to our position. We’re so close, I’m almost sitting in his lap. His hand still cups my cheek. “Monty, I’ve been making out with you for the past five minutes. Did you really,  _ truly _ think I would make you sleep at Jeanne’s house?”

“Fair enough,” I say, then lean back into him. With a hand on my chest, he gently pushes me away. I purse my lips together.   
  


“I’ll drive.” He draws the hand on my cheek down to my jaw and leaves a quick kiss on my nose, then my forehead, then stands up and walks to the door.

I slump down on the couch and watch him put his shoes on. “You are such a tease.”

“Come on then. Sooner we leave, sooner we can come home.” He winks at me, and for a second I think I imagined it. He grins mischievously, and I jump up off the couch like it's on fire to join him at the door.

===========================================================================

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo one more chapter thats not an epilogue fuck me up comment and kudos and shit u know the drill
> 
> see ya later!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all!! this is the last chapter of this and it’s so bittersweet . thank you so much for reading and sticking with it <3 keep your eyes out for the epilogue , until then , i’ll see you later :’)
> 
> enjoy!

I don’t condone stealing without reason. Stealing with reason, however, can be extremely beneficial. And this book is really good, so that’s reason enough for me. I  _ borrowed  _ it from Jeanne while staying at her house a couple of weeks ago. One of the dramatic love poetry books that weeks ago I would have scoffed at. Now that Percy and I have reconciled completely, I feel like I’m weathered enough in the woes and triumphs of love to really understand it. It’s not like I’ve  _ seen  _ her read this particular book before. I found it in the very back of the bookcase while digging around for something to do while she was at the store.

I picked up the book hours ago, as soon as I got back from work. It’s thick enough to last a while. I’ve gotten through a good chunk of it in the time since I got home. In earlier days, I would have Percy to keep me entertained from the moment we awoke to the moment we fell asleep. Now though, he doesn’t get home until the sun is halfway set. It’s frustrating sometimes but this job is still a blessing in disguise. He got the phone call from the school that he was suspended during the time in which he was staying with his parents. I think they all must have had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be asked to return because his father offered him a job doing paperwork at his office. AKA, “Percy the music nerd’s” personal hell.

Percy’s shifts start early in the morning and end latein the evening. He has to be awake far before the sun even rises in the sky. Of course, since I’m so sympathetic and kind, I wake myself up too so that he doesn’t have to endure that torture alone. Mostly it’s so that he doesn’t have to go to work without a kiss. It’s not too bad. I still have an hour or two to rest before I have to start getting ready for school, so it works out. The saddest thing about the entire thing is how early he has to go to bed. Some days we have to eat dinner at five in the evening, like a pair of old men. At least we still have our lazy weekends, slinking around the house all day with Rhiannon at our feet. I would shrivel up and die if I didn’t get my weekly Percy fix, which is already a low quota at the moment.

The lamp positioned next to our couch turns off on it’s timer. I leisurely wave my hand over the couch’s arm with my eyes fixed on the book and it turns back on.  _ Wait, it’s timed to shut off around the time we eat dinner, so seven-thirty?  _ I look up at the clock for the first time in hours, only to see that, sure enough, it  _ is  _ that late. Percy said he was going to be home around six. I have to say, I’m more than a little disappointed. This entirely exhausting week coming to a close so unceremoniously is a bit of a let down. I’m sure he’s just as thrilled about it as I am. 

Just then, I hear the metallic clicking of the doorknob twisting, which makes Rhiannon jump off my lap. I twist over the back of the couch to catch a glimpse of my “visitor’s” face, and the moment Percy walks through the door he groans dramatically and slams it behind him. I watch as he kicks off his shows and basically throws his bag onto the ground. 

“Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today, my love,” I joke, pasting on a grin in an attempt to lighten the mood. He sees right through it and gives me a death glare that could easily rival Felicity’s. I raise my hands in surrender and flop back onto the couch. He enters the living room and stands in front of me, hands on his hips. I close the book and look up at him. “Is there something you need?” I ask.

Percy’s expression shifts into one of misery as he flops down on top of me, burying his head in my shoulder with another groan. If he wasn’t in such an absolutely shit mood, I would be teasing him for his bony cheekbones and how much they hurt. Instead, I run a hand through his hair until it reaches the elastic holding it all together, which I gently pull out to let his curls pile over his back. “Thank you,” he mumbles, just intelligible enough for me to get an idea of what he was aiming for.

“Was it really that bad?” Percy lifts his head and glares at me again. The intensity of his gaze is stern, but also pretty hot.

“Really? Was it that bad? Are you serious?” His eyebrows are raised like he’s waiting for the punchline.

“Woah, okay, point taken.” I run another hand through his hair and he sets his head back on my shoulder.

“I hate this job,” he murmurs, and my heart breaks a little at how sad he sounds. How much this situation fucking sucks.

I kiss the top of his head again. “I know love.’

He hums and I lift his chin with the tip of my finger.

“Would it be bad to say I don’t regret punching him?” His eyes are pointedly focused on the floor beside us, but his grin is undeniable.

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “Honestly? I know you don’t.”

With that, he rests his head back on my shoulder and his bony cheeks dig into me again. I let it go, just this once, and lay my head against the arm of the couch with a sigh.

“Just hold on a little bit longer, okay?”

He leans forward to kiss me on the lips for the first time since he got home. His anger has completely diffused by now, leaving only exhaustion behind “I know. Until then,” he traces the line of my collar bone with his finger and my eyes fall close, “I believe we have an anniversary to plan.”

“Anniversary? When is that?” I sit up and Percy follows.

“Four months. It falls on Sunday this time.”

_ Four months.  _ “Of this week?”

He grins and nods like he’s waiting for me to laugh and tell him I’m just kidding. Now I feel kind of stupid for not realizing. It’s not like neither of us had been paying attention before this. Maybe he had, and I just didn’t notice. “Well, technically  _ next  _ week, but it’s this weekend.”

“Oh shit,” I scratch behind my ear, “I mean, we haven’t celebrated any of the other ones.”

“That’s true, but this one is special.” He takes my hand and twines our fingers together. I look down at our hands, then back up at him skeptically.

“And why is that?”

He chews his lip and thinks for a moment. I hope it takes him a bit to come up with what to say next so that I get to watch him longer. “Even…. Number? Of months?”

A grin grows on my lips and I lean over to press a kiss to his temple. “You’re cute.” I decide to rest my head on his shoulder and give his hand a squeeze.

“Come on,” he draws out the last syllable for much longer than necessary, “Don’t you want something to celebrate? We could use it.”

“If you’re alluding to Valentine’s day, I think that we’re  _ compensating _ just fine. It’s not like it’s some big thing.” He takes his hand from mine, but I continue on anyway. “I’m fairly sure that the standard anniversary celebration is just having dinner, then having sex, then going to sleep. Which is normal.” I pause. “Do straight people just hate their partners or something? How is that a ‘celebration’?” 

He stands up from the couch. “If you hated the idea that bad, you could have just said so,” he hisses, then stalks off toward the bedroom. 

I sit there on the couch with wide eyes for a few seconds, unmoving. I didn’t mean to  _ actually  _ dismiss him. I won’t deny that a little break would be appreciated, and it would be fun, I’m just not sure why  _ this  _ particular anniversary is the one we decide to celebrate. We really have been doing fine since we made up.  _ Really good  _ actually. It’s not like we need a special opportunity to “ _ make up”  _ some more _.  _ Now I feel like a piece of shit, because he seemed excited about this and I essentially put on a pair of soccer cleats and stomped on the idea. Well, if there is anything I’ve learned over the past few weeks, it’s that sitting and doing nothing about a quarrel will do jack shit to make you feel better.

I hesitantly knock on the door once before I open it. Percy’s sitting on our bed, back against the headboard, with his knees pulled up to his chest. Rhiannon is laying beside him, and she lifts her head when I walk in. When Percy notices me, he shoos Rhiannon off the bed, to which she runs out the open bedroom door. His eyes are focused on a random spot on our comforter. 

I walk over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”

He lifts his hand. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry, Perce. It’s not a bad idea, really. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

He sets his chin on the arm rested on his knees and looks at me. To an outsider, his face would look expressionless. To me however, he’s feeling  _ something  _ and his face is mirroring that. I know that much, I just wish I knew what it is that he’s feeling. “It’s alright. We hadn’t really done anything for the other ones anyway.”

I let out a sigh of relief, then bash myself for feeling so relieved at the words ”it’s alright” even though they are clearly insincere. He may be a good actor, but it takes one to know one. “I didn't know you wanted to.”

“Of course I did. Still do, obviously.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I thought that maybe you had something against them. Now that I’ve said it out loud, it sounds kind of dumb.”

“Nothing you say is dumb, my love.” He opens his arms and straightens his beautiful yet freakishly long legs. 

I raise an eyebrow and hesitate climbing over to him. “We haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

Percy rolls his eyes and makes a grabby hand gesture that stops my heart. His grasp on his dignity is almost non existent when he’s tired. “I don’t care. We’ll have time later. Now, come lay with me. I want a nap, and I’ve missed you all day.”

Deciding not to argue, just in case, I crawl closer to him. He lays his head on the pillow and I spread out on top of him. I consider telling him to get changed out of his work clothes, but he’s on such a short fuse that I don’t even bother. It’s been a long day for me too, so I just nudge my head into his chest and close my eyes.

  
  


============================================================================

  
  


We decided it would be best to organize the festivities for today, Saturday, rather than celebrating on Sunday. The decision was unanimous, seeing that if tonight goes well, neither of us will be too excited to get out of bed tomorrow, and that wouldn’t be the best for a workday. We planned everything yesterday while eating dinner. An actual restaurant reservation was considered, but quickly shot down by yours truly in favor of Percy cooking for me. 

He’s been at an appointment for a few hours now, which gave me plenty of time to spruce up the apartment. I want to go all out for him. Flowers, candles, lace tablecloth, the works. He texted me ten or so minutes ago to tell me that he’ll be making his way home soon, so I’m making some final preparations with the decor. It looks nice, I must say. It’s clear that tonight is important to him, even though it’s simply a home cooked anniversary dinner. It’s possible that tonight  _ is  _ a rain check for Valentines day, but I really wasn’t lying when I said we have been  _ compensating  _ a perfectly good amount. Whatever, I could use some fun. 

Work is hell without him there. I can’t seem to remember what it was like there before we started dating. Even before, I could count on having someone to tease, which wasted time at least. Richard’s being a little bitch about every little thing now, even worse than before. It seems that he only cares about his job when it benefits him. Inviting me to eat in the break room with him isn’t helping his case either. Seriously, how has he not gotten the hint that I want nothing to do with him?

I’ve been thinking a lot about my job. Maybe I’ll quit when Percy finds a new one, just so that we have at least one stable job to count on.

During the first hour Percy was gone, I ran to the supermarket to pick up some flowers for him. At first I thought that red roses would be a good idea, being one of the trademark love flowers and all, until I remembered the disaster that was his birthday last year. His birthday is exactly a week before Christmas, and I had bought an obnoxious bouquet of red roses for it last year. The moment he came within ten feet of them, he started sneezing like a madman. The fact that he tried to muscle through it only made everything worse. Turns out, he’s allergic to them! The fact that he knew this and didn’t think to tell me is beyond me. Yes, he couldn’t have known I was going to buy them in the first place, but it’s still a nice thing to know! Imagine if I had made some sort of intricate pastry with them, and when he ate the things he swelled up like a balloon. Whatever. But still, it would have been nice to know. By some strange twist of fate, his friend Scipio happened to be working as I checked out. In the end, I found a nice arrangement with peonies and carnations. When asked what the occasion was, I told him about our plans for tonight. He just smiled sagely and wished me well. Strange.

I’m waiting at the door for Percy’s return home with the bouquet clasped in both of my hands. Every so often, I check my phone again, rereading the old text message and checking for a new one. He told me he would be back soon fifteen minutes ago now. I’m checking my phone for the eighteenth time when the doorknob starts twisting. I hear the clicking of the keys in the door and hold the flowers out in front of my chest. When the door swings open, Percy isn’t standing in it.

“Hello, brother,” Felicity says, pushing straight past me into the house and pocketing the keys.

I shut the door with my foot and set the flowers on the side table next to the door. “No, what are you doing here?! When did you get keys?!”

“Unimportant,” she says, shuffling around in the kitchen for something. 

I march after her and stand in the opening to the kitchen with my arms crossed. “Yes, important, this is my house, how did you get keys?”

“If you really must know, Percy gave Sim and I a copy in case  _ you,”  _ she stands up holding a casserole dish, “forgot your keys.”

I throw my hands up and she laughs. No, cackles.

“It looks nice in here. What are you apologizing for?” Felicity sets the dish on the counter and looks around.

“Can’t I just do something nice for my boyfriend?” She raises an eyebrow at me and I sigh in defeat. “It’s our anniversary.”

Her face twists. “How long?”

“Four months.”

“God, already? Good for you. Didn’t think this day would come.”

“I don’t remember asking. You come into my house, uninvited, with your own keys, steal one of my dishes, then insult me? Unbelievable, get out.” She snickers again to herself. “Why are you here anyway?”

“Not sure if you remembered, but my birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks. I already let Percy know I was going to come by and pick this up for my cake.”

I run a hand over my face in exasperation. “Not sure why you didn’t ask  _ me. _ ”

She just shrugs and nonchalantly strolls back to the door. “Thank you!” she calls, before slamming the door shut and walking out. I run a hand through my hair and knock my head against the side of the kitchen entryway.

A half an hour of waiting later, Percy finally decides to show up. At first, I think the twisting doorknob could just be Felicity again, until the door swings open to Percy. When our eyes lock, a grin springs up on his face and he runs toward me like we haven’t seen each other in months instead of hours. I melt into him and, without warning, he tightens his grip on me and lifts me up off the ground in a spin. I laugh, airy and free, like a first breath of oxygen after years underwater. Though I’m not heavy in the slightest, he grunts, then gently lowers me down until my feet touch the carpet. There is a stupidly wide smile on his face and he’s looking at me like he couldn’t be happier if he tried. I notice the way the smile reaches his eyes, crinkling them the same way it crinkles his nose. I can’t resist throwing myself at him to slam our lips together. Our noses slot next to each other in the most delicate and perfect way, like we are two puzzle pieces, carefully designed to only fit with one another and no one else. He holds my jaw in his palm and smiles into the kiss. We break away eventually, and when I try to tuck my chin to hide the blush on my cheeks, he sandwiches my face between his hands.

“Hello love of my life, happy almost anniversary.”

My nose scrunches as my grin turns into a toothy, beaming smile. I pull him into another kiss, and we let this one last for longer than the previous. We breathe together for a moment before I remember the flowers. “Oh! I have something for you!” He raises an eyebrow. “Close your eyes!” I say then take the bouquet off the side table and hold it out to him. “Okay, open.”

He gasps and takes them. “They’re beautiful, Monty! Thank you so much.”

I let him hold the flowers and examine them for a while, but I take them out of his hands, set them back aside, and step back into his space. Our noses touch and I feel his breath on my lips. My voice is low when I speak next, trying to sound as seductive as possible. “So, we have a couple of hours before dinner. What ever shall we do until then?”

“I don’t know, perhaps we could admire your decorations. You did a wonderful job,” Percy says, in a completely nonchalant tone. I can’t help but be a little peeved that he isn’t the least bit affected by my efforts to get him in bed as soon as possible. 

“That's not really what I was thinking. Also, thank you.”

“No problem. What did you have in mind?”

I resist the overwhelming urge to wiggle my eyebrows. “You  _ know _ what.”

Percy takes a step back, earning an embarrassing whine from me. “Ah, I see. A wonderful suggestion, really, but I must veto it.”

“Why?” I groan.

He kisses my temple quick before walking past me. People have  _ got  _ to stop doing that, it’s incredibly annoying. “Maybe later.”

“That did not answer my question, sir.”

“Oh well.”

  
  


============================================================================

  
  


As it nears dinner time, Percy starts cooking for us. I’m sitting alone in the living room, listening to him sing. I remember the melody from one of the many times we’ve driven together over the past four months.  _ Four months.  _ I really can’t believe it. Felicity said she didn't expect this as a  _ joke,  _ but I’m serious. I’ve woken up next to him too many times to count, yet every time he smiles that sleepy, morning smile I fall in love with him even more. 

“Monty, darling, would you come help me with something?” I set my near-finished book aside and jump up from the couch. When I get to the kitchen, I can’t help but admire him for a minute. We thought that dressing up as if we were going out would just add to the atmosphere. The open flannel over his shoulders is rolled up to his elbows, revealing his beautifully toned arms. My vision tunnels when he looks at me. The golden light of the kitchen smooths his features, erasing any imperfection. His eyes and freckles seem to glow. His curls are twisted into a perfectly imperfect bun on top of his head, two pieces falling in front of his face. I step forward as he sets down his mixing spoon and push the curls out of his eyes. He smiles, then turns back to the recipe in his hand. The moment his eyes fix on it, he starts squinting like the print on the paper is microscopic.

I gently turn his face back to mine with a hand cupping his cheek. “What’s wrong babe? Why are you looking at it like that?”

His eyes flit back to me and resume their normal, damn near circular shape. “Like what?”

“You’re squinting.”

“Oh, yeah, I uh-” he blushes, “I ran out of contacts.”

I tilt my head. “Where are your glasses then?”

He bats his eyelashes. “Could you maybe go get those for me?” 

I sigh and kiss him softly. “Of course, darling.”

He smiles and blushes even more. I turn on my heel and saunter down the hall. I can feel his gaze as I walk away and I smile to myself. At first, I check on top of our nightstand to no avail. I throw open the drawer as a last resort. I haven’t opened it since I moved in, months ago. Time stops when I see the glasses. They are sat atop a stack of papers. I throw a look over my shoulder, just to make sure Percy’s not watching. I know I shouldn’t look at them. If they’re hidden away like this, it clearly means I’m not supposed to see them. But I could have easily opened the drawer long before this and seen them, so it’s not like they’re  _ top  _ secret, right? 

I sit down on the bed and pull the stack of papers into my lap. After a quick once over, I realize that they are rejected job applications.  _ All seven of them.  _ A hand flies to my mouth as I flip through them.

_ Sorry, you don’t have the credentials needed for this position. _

_ Sorry, this position has been filled. _

_ Thank you for your time. _

I didn’t even know he has been  _ applying  _ to this many. He told me about the first, but none of the rest. Now I just feel ten times worse for yesterday. I just thought his moods lately were a result of his current job. Now it’s clear that on top of that, he’s been feeling this way because he keeps getting rejected. I don’t exactly know the feeling. I didn’t work at all before I got my job at the school, and the only reason I got accepted in the first place was because of my relationship with Richard. Percy applied as a music teacher at a neighboring district, music therapist, even a music therapist at a nursing home. Every single one, denied. 

“Monty? Did you find the glasses?” Percy calls.

My heart stops, and I shove the papers back into the drawer. I snatch the glasses out of it, then slam it shut. “Yeah, I- I got them!” I yell, and then mentally hit myself for the shake in my voice.

When I get back in the kitchen, Percy is digging around in one of the cupboards. When he hears me coming, he straightens and sets a pan on the counter. My anxiety that he knows I saw the papers spikes when a look of concern passes across his face. He takes a step closer to me and runs his hands up and down my arms. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Absolutely smashing, darling.” I put on a smile and slide the glasses onto his face. He blinks a few times, then straightens them. “There. Much better.”

Percy smiles, then nudges my nose with his. I let my eyes flutter closed and touch my lips to his. The kiss starts as innocent, but escalates rather quickly. I hear him groan into it, and all the blood leaves my head. His hand shoots up to cradle the back of my head, roughly digging his fingers into my waves and messing up the hair I spent an hour on. I don’t find myself caring as I push him back toward the counter. When I finally have him where I want him, he flips us around so that my back is pushed up against it. I groan into the kiss as he wraps his arms around me, hands travelling lower and lower. After a few beautiful seconds of blind searching, he grabs the back of thighs and lifts me onto the counter. The second I’m off my feet, I wrap my legs around him as he buries his face in my shoulder, holding me tighter and tighter against him. My head falls back and he takes it as an opportunity to begin a frantic descent down my neck with his lips. I tangle my fingers in his curls and tug him off to kiss his lips again. Our foreheads hit together as I try to shove the flannel off of his shoulders, mumbling  _ off, off, off  _ over and over. The moment it hits the floor I kiss him again, hard, and my hands travel down his chest to rip his undershirt out of his pants. I pull it over his head, then reach down to tug my own off and throw them both across the room. There’s a shit eating grin on his face when we lock eyes, and I surge back in to slam our lips together and tangle my fingers in his hair. The kiss gets messy, more than before anyway, so I yank my hands away from his curls and reach down between us for the button of his jeans.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Percy breathes, and I pull away like a shot with my hands in the air like a surrender. We both stare at each other while we catch our breath, the adrenaline of before still pumping through our veins. Mine, at least. “Not now.”

I let my hands fall down and gasp in a few breaths. “Why?” I manage.

He leans forward and rests his face in the crick of my neck. His warm lips rub against my skin, which is not helping my  _ situation  _ at  _ all.  _ He drags them up to my ear and I let out an obnoxiously loud, embarrassing moan against my will. He shoots back and lets out a laugh, then slaps his hand against his mouth. “Sorry,” he says, but actions speak louder than words and his ear to ear smile proves that.

My face turns bright red and I playfully shove him away, unhooking my legs from his waist. “Alright, you ruined it.”

“I said I was sorry,” he laughs.

I cross my arms over my chest and feign annoyance. “I do not accept. Now leave me. Actually, give me my shirt. And put yours on. The white one  _ and  _ the flannel, I can’t stand you teasing me.”

He kisses me on my scrunched nose and throws me my shirt off the ground. I tug it on, then hop down from the counter. When I’m about halfway out of the kitchen, Percy grabs me by the waist and lifts me into the air.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” I shout as he walks me back over to the counter.

“Fat chance.” He sets me back on the tabletop. “I’m going to finish cooking us dinner, and you’re going to sit here and look pretty.” I straighten and he steps back with his hands on his hips.

“Oh yeah? What makes you think I’ll agree to this?”

He shrugs the flannel back on, then runs a hand through his messy, what-could’ve-been-sex hair. “You don’t need to. I already know you’re going to try and distract me anyway, so I’d rather you stay here where I can watch you.”

My feet swing back and forth as I lean back on my hands and lend him my knee-weakening, tipped head smirk . “You know me too well.”

“I know.” He steps in between my legs and leans in so close I can feel his lips brush mine when he speaks. “Good thing you’re my favorite distraction.”

I roll my eyes fondly and push him away. “Wow, thanks.”

He cackles and walks over to the sink, picking up his mixing spoon and bowl to get back to work.

Time passes, the clock above the cupboard clicking obnoxiously loud. Occasionally, I’ll let my legs swing back and forth until Percy comes over and holds them still. He’s redone his hair, seeing that I fucked up the bun beyond repair, and it looks arguably better than before. Not that it doesn’t always look good. My eyes drift closed and I take in his gentle humming and the popping of whatever’s in the pan before him. Apparently, this recipe is from his mother, something she insisted he use the moment she found out about our plans for tonight. And she found out rather quickly too. I’m not sure why Percy would tell her in the first place. 

“Baby-doll, would you go set the table?” Percy says, in a tone that holds no implication that he’s joking.

I give him a second to break character before I start cackling. “I’m sorry,  _ what  _ did you just call me,” I manage, through fits of laughter so extreme my stomach muscles quickly start to hurt.

Percy blushes and covers his face with his hands. “Stop it! I thought it would be cute!”

I shake my head and continue to laugh. “Better luck next time, darling.”

He turns away with his hand still over his red face, visibly embarrassed. I stop laughing out of sympathy and reach over to grab his wrists. I pull his hand away from his face and press a kiss to the top of it. I look up to see the embarrassment has faded and been replaced with pure adoration. He twines our fingers together and presses his lips against mine. I smile into it then pull away, resting our foreheads together. I kiss him one last time before sliding off the counter and walking off toward the table with the bundle of silverware.

============================================================================

  
  


The first ten minutes or so after the table is set and the food is served is spent actually eating. Shocking, I know. The moment we sat down at the table, Percy lost the confident air he has had all night so far, replacing it with nervousness s Now, as I gradually work on my plate, he’s staring at me from across the way. Just, looking. Every so often he’ll glance down at his hand and fiddle with the bracelet I got him for Christmas. He wears it everyday. That was the intention when I bought it, and I’m glad it paid off. I wonder if the cologne I doused it in before I wrapped it has worn off yet. Surely it must have, I don’t think I’ve seen him take it off since he first put in one. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, and when he looks back up, I set down my fork. 

“Darling, I love you so much, but you have got to stop staring at me. If there’s something you need, just ask,” I say, resting my cheek on my fist.

His cheeks turn fantastically red and he toys with something on his plate. “Sorry. You look really pretty.”

I look down at my outfit, then raise my eyebrow at him. There isn’t anything particularly special about it. It’s just a teal sweater and jeans. Not even  _ my  _ sweater, it’s so obviously his from the way half of it is tucked into my pants and the sleeves stretch past my finger tips. “What makes you say so?”

His grin turns lovesick even though I’m only three or so feet ahead of him. “Well, you did your makeup.” He points to my face. “And your hair is doing the flippy thing above your ear.”

On reflex, I swipe at the curl with my hand a couple times, until I’m sure it’s gone down. I don’t know what he loves so much about it. The one part of my hair that exists only to serve a nuisance is the part he loves the most. “That’s your fault. I spent an hour in the bathroom trying to get rid of it, only for you to come in and mess it all up. I’ll never forgive you.”

His eye roll and smile contradict each other in the best way possible. Both fade as soon as they show, and he clears his throat. “How’s work been lately?”

My heart drops. Suddenly, everything on the papers from before comes rushing back. I remember how as soon as the weekend is over, he’ll have to go back to the torturous white-walled office. I don’t want to make him feel bad, but on the other hand if I say it’s been bad, I’ll sound ungrateful or something. “It’s good. I don’t know. Not as fun now that you’re gone. Richard’s still an asshole, that's nothing new.”   
  


“Sorry about that.”

I shrug and pick at the last of my food. “It’s fine.” My eyes flit up to his, and I notice the way he’s chewing his lip and furrowing his brow. “What’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath and drops his shoulders. I didn’t even notice he had them tensed in the first place. “Yeah, about that. You know how I’ve been applying to some other jobs?” I nod, but inside I’m panicking. This must mean he knows I saw the papers. I hope he’s not  _ too  _ mad. I wouldn’t want to ruin another holiday. “Well, I got accepted by one of them. A position to play my violin, first chair, in a really big orchestra. They’ve played for the president before.” He’s not smiling, in fact, he looks more worried than before. Maybe the stack in the bedroom was just a discard pile of sorts. I mirror his expression. “But there, um, there is something about it. A catch, I guess.” I reach my hand across the table and he sets his in mine. I look into his eyes as I give a comforting squeeze. One that says  _ I’m here, it’s okay. _ He turns his head down and shuts his eyes. “It’s in Philadelphia,” he finishes, in a small voice.

I don’t answer him for a while. How are we going to manage this? I’ll quit  _ my  _ job obviously, but I’m hoping I’ll get to finish out this year first. Clearly, we’ll have to make the drive up for every holiday we spend with my friends. Oh god, my friends! What am I going to do without them? What if I break my hand or something and Felicity doesn’t answer her phone? Or Percy and I get into another fight and I have no place to stay? On another hand, I’ll never have to deal with the constant fear of my father showing up on my doorstep to drag me back to his office ever again. And no more Richard Peele, which is a huge plus.

“I don’t have to take this one. I’m sure there’ll be other options. Or we could try it out, and if it doesn’t work we’ll-”

I wave my hand at him and run a hand through my hair. My vision tunnels on the red plate in front of me. “No, obviously you’re going to take it, and I’m going to come with you, of course. I’m just wondering how it’ll-”

“Really?” I glance up at him and our eyes meet. His are shining and his nose crinkles from the beautiful smile on his lips. “You’ll come with me?”

I grin and set my free hand over our already clasped one. “Of course, darling. How could I ever leave you?”

His head tilts and the shine in his eyes becomes literal as tears fill them. I can’t help but aw at him and feel my own start to water. Without letting go of my hand, he stands up from his chair and I follow suit. Our hands fall down between us and he lifts the one not holding mine to rest on my cheek. Tears stream down his cheeks now as he wipes mine away. A laugh falls from my lips and I lean into the hand. 

“You can’t. You’re stuck with me now. I love you.” He moves in closer to me so our noses are a mere inch apart. “I love you so much it hurts. I love you now, I’ll love you later, and I’ll never stop. And in a couple months, we’ll be having our first night in a new house in Philadelphia,  _ our  _ house, and I’ll tell you there too.” He takes his bottom lip between his lips and ducks his head with a blush. “Soon enough, I’ll tell you so at some church in front of Sinjon, and Jeanne, and Sim, and Johanna, and Felicity, and James, and my parents, when I make sure the whole world knows that you’re mine.”

I move my hands up to rest on the back of his neck. “I’d like that,” I whisper, and I smile wider than I ever have when I close the distance between us. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god this is way sadder than i thought it would be . thank you so much , make sure to leave me a comment and kudos is you liked it ! i do have something new planned and i’m so excited to start it but this fic will always be my baby . 
> 
> see ya later !!


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all! so, this is finally all wrapped up. thank you all for reading and enjoying and leaving comments on this :) i’ve definitely grown a lot as a writer since i started this, and i couldn’t be more proud. enjoy <3

**9 Months Later**

“Ugh, who decided suitcases always have to be so damn heavy?” I complain, carelessly dropping my bag beside our hotel bed.

Percy follows, carrying his like it’s nothing and setting it on the burgundy comforter. Should have known all the times he’s picked me up would pay off. “Well,  _ you  _ did. I tried to tell you that packing the entire house would be a bad idea,” he pokes me in the side, “You said, ‘It’s a week, I don’t know what I will and won’t need!’”

I throw myself down onto the bed dramatically and toss an arm over my eyes. “Have mercy!” I peek at him from beneath it. “But really, how would I have known how much to bring?”

He begins unpacking one of our suitcases and setting neatly folded clothes on the bed beside me. How could someone be so domestic in a place that isn’t even their home? “I don’t know, maybe because you lived in Boston for your whole life up until last year?” Percy teases, quirking an eyebrow with a grin.

“You’re so mean! You’re not the man I fell in love with!” I cry, putting on a terrible southern accent for the end.

And it’s such a lie. These past months have been  _ amazing. _ The happiest times of my life, really. It feels like starting fresh. New job, new house, new city, same  _ wonderful _ boyfriend. 

Yes, there have been a few fights, but nothing beyond a squabble. We’ve got a new rule, implemented after last year’s Valentine’s disaster: no going to sleep upset. I try to follow that rule as much as possible, and the times I try to slip under the radar, he still figures me out. It’s nice though. 

  
  


Moving is stressful for everyone. That was the cause of most of it. Neither of us had done it before, not even when living with our families. Then there was the added layer of finding a new job for myself, which put me in a bad mood for say,  _ eighty percent  _ of the time for a few weeks. But I got over it, and it’s been smooth sailing since then.

Percy deliberately twists his face and stops shuffling. “I’m not?” he asks, tone  _ full  _ of sarcasm. That tone used to make me want to claw my own face off. Now I just smile, grabbing his hand and yanking him down beside me. How times have changed.

The second he’s laying down, I cuddle my face into his shoulder. On what I assume is reflex, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. “I hate planes,” I murmur. “I’m never taking one ever again.”

That one is definitely true. The plane ride from Philly to Boston was around two hours, and I had a death grip on Percy’s hand the entire time. It’s astounding that he managed to sleep through it. With every bump of turbulence, I shook him awake to tell me that everything was fine, even though he had no way of knowing. That man could tell me the earth was the flat and I’d follow him to the ends of it. 

He lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ve still got to take one back to Philadelphia. Rhiannon will miss you if you don’t come home,” he whispers. “So will I.” 

Leave it to Percy to take a lighthearted joke and turn it into the most romantic thing I’ve ever fucking heard. 

In response, I drop a kiss to his shoulder over his sweatshirt. Then to his neck, then his cheek, then his lips. I let myself linger on that last one. He doesn’t exactly pull away either.

“I love you,” I say. He gazes leisurely into my eyes, taking me in. There’s not much to take in right now in the first place, which is how I know he’s not faking it. 

He reaches up from below me to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His hand drops, and I pick it back up to rest on my cheek, holding it there. “I love you more,” he adds.

Leaning down to rub my nose against his, I smile and whisper, “I love you most.”

Percy lifts his head to kiss me, but something light takes over his eyes, and he hesitates. He drops his head back down onto the mattress, then turns away from me to begin laughing hysterically.

I sit down on his lap so that I’m straddling it with crossed arms. He’s not affected by it. I let him laugh for another couple seconds before interrupting, “Are you done?”

He wipes his eyes and looks up at me, intertwining our fingers on both hands. “Sorry, it’s just-“ he breaks to laugh for a second, “You’re so pretty. I love you so much,” he says, trying to avert my attention. 

I poke him in the stomach a couple times. “That’s,” poke, “not why you were laughing.” 

He’s thinly concealing his laughter. “I sort of kinda thought of  _ Tangled  _ when you said ‘I love you most’.“

With that, I lightly slap his chest and let out a laugh of my own. He’s blushing like crazy, and I feel a bit of satisfaction at the fact that I can still get him like that after all this time. “So you’re saying I’m Mother Gothel?” 

Percy throws his head back joyously, curls fanning out on the bed. I smile to myself before falling over him to kiss gently at his neck.

Have you ever felt so happy that it takes over everything? When you have to stop yourself to take everything in and say,  _ This is something I’m going to remember _ . Percy makes me feel that way all the time. I’m concerned that I’m going to run out of space for new memories in my brain because of him. 

“Stop! We’ve gotta unpack!” he cries, but I continue dropping little kisses over any skin I can reach. 

“We have time!” I say, lifting my head to start kissing his face instead. Percy grabs either side of my face, then yanks me down to press our lips together.

He uses his hands on my cheeks to push me away just as I’m about to deepen the kiss. Sometimes I wonder whether there’s some sort of telepathic connection between us that makes it possible for him to know when to stop the fun at the worst times. “I’m serious, though. I really don’t want to live out of a suitcase for a week,” he muses.

I should’ve known; he was like this when we first moved too. For the first few days, I desperately wanted to rest after the plane ride  _ and  _ the entire process of unloading everything from the truck. Percy decided it would be best if we got everything unpacked as soon as possible. Of course he’d do the same for a week’s stay at a hotel.

I sit back on his hips, and his hands travel down to rest on my waist. Choosing not to swoon at the automaticity of it all, I say, “But we don’t have anything else to do today! It’s only two in the afternoon.”

His thumbs massage tiny circles into my waist. It doesn’t look like he even acknowledges that he’s doing it. It should be maddening how sweet he is without thinking. It’s not though, not at all. “In  _ theory _ . But after I put everything away, it will be three. And then you’ll want to take a nap, so then it’ll be five. I figured we could get dinner somewhere, but that can only happen if we unpack  _ right now, _ ” Percy emphasizes. 

Sometimes it’s annoying to have someone know you inside and out. “Fine!” 

Jokingly glaring at him, I roll off and fall onto the empty bed space beside him. He huffs, as if I’m the one who cut us off for no  _ good _ reason, and leans over me. He presses one last sloppy kiss to my cheek, and then to my lips.

Not even giving me the chance to grab his face or anything, he slides off the bed and picks up the toiletry bag off the floor. I sit up on my elbows to watch as he stalks off to the bathroom, whistling a tune just like always. 

I drop my head back onto the bed and run a hand over my face. I could easily fall asleep right now, that’s how exhausted I am. Between waking up early to catch the plane, taking it to Boston, then getting to the hotel, it feels like I’ve run a marathon. 

“This bathtub is  _ huge,”  _ Percy says, mostly to himself, but loud enough for me to hear it.

And just like that, I’m no longer tired. Crazy, right? I sit myself back up on my elbows and quirk an eyebrow, not that he can see it. “Is that so?” I ask, after a beat.

The shuffling from the bathroom pauses. Percy sticks his head out of the door and I tilt my head, throwing on a flirty expression. He doesn’t react, other than giving me an overly-fond eye roll and swinging back into the bathroom. 

Once again, I throw myself back onto the bed and groan obnoxiously loud. “C’mon Perce! Work with me here-“ I start, but the words get caught in my throat when I hear the sound of the bathtub‘s faucet start running. 

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline in shock, and I can’t help but laugh once. I love him so much. I slide down the side of the bed and glance at myself in the mirror. My hair is a bit greasy and there are light bags under my eyes. By no means do I look cute. Percy wants me either way, so I smile in the mirror and mess with my hair for a second before sauntering into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.

===

We never ended up unpacking yesterday. The joke’s on him, that was the motive anyway! The only downside to this is that we had to unpack this morning instead. Well, not  _ we _ . More just Percy doing all the work and me laying in bed watching him. 

Today has been weird. Nothing in particular happened; Percy’s just not acting right. He’s jittery and overly defensive over everything. There’s something hanging over his head. I just wish I knew what. 

I hope he feels better later. Unlike yesterday, we actually have plans for this evening. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and we’re visiting Felicity and our friends to celebrate. This trip was planned last month, and even then we couldn’t find a flight into Boston the day before New Year’s Eve. So, since we would be getting into the city a day early, we got tickets to an orchestra performance at the music hall. The same one we went to on our first date. 

We’ve been laying in bed ever since Percy finished setting all of our clothes in the hotel room drawers. Just resting and enjoying each other’s presence, one our favorite pastimes. Percy has his arms wrapped around me from behind, and I lean back into his chest. It’s nice, not doing anything. Or at least it would be, if Percy wasn’t thinking so goddamn loud.

“What’s wrong, darling?” I ask, running my fingers over his knuckles.

Percy leans down to kiss my neck, then bury his face there. “Nothing. I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are,” I say, and I feel him straighten behind me. “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

I turn around in his arms so that we’re face to face. Gray winter light streams in through the pulled curtains and pales his face. I reach a hand up from between us and brush a curl out of his eyes. Percy leans into the touch, gazing at me with big brown eyes. “I’m fine, Monty. Just… tired.”

“I think I know what’s going on. I think you’re just nervous to see everyone again.” My hand rests on his upward facing cheek. 

Percy’s face twists, and something runs over his eyes. I rub his cheek with my thumb, and his expression goes back to normal. “Yeah… that’s it. I’m so nervous to see them- and everything. Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about that! They still love you. If they’ve put up with me since high school, they’ll never tire of  _ you,”  _ I tell him. 

Instead of answering me with words, Percy leans in to kiss me. When I pull away, he chases my lips, bringing a hand up to gently pull my face closer. I reciprocate, obviously, shuffling into him so that we’re touching as much as possible. 

It feels a lot like an  _ I’m done talking about this, come keep my lips company  _ kiss. It’s a tactic Percy has become quite seasoned in, being with someone who never learned when or how to shut up. I hook my leg over his and continue pressing soft kisses to his lips, over, and over, and over again. I think I’ll stop when I’m dead.

===

Hours later, we’re awake and on the road to the music hall. Our hotel is near the airport, so we have to drive for a bit to get there. Outside the car, the evening sky is a dark, deep gray. It has the air of hope that always comes before the new year. It doesn’t matter yet what you’re going to do with the new year, it matters that you made it through the previous.

I take Percy’s hand from his lap and hold it in mine, resting on the center console. Eyes fixed on the road, he lifts our clasped hands to press a kiss onto mine.

I lean back in my seat with a sigh. “I’m so in love with you,” I murmur through a smile.

Percy’s breath catches from the driver’s seat. Three squeezes in a row to my hand.  _ I love you. _

We don’t speak for the rest of the drive.

===

The music hall is pretty crowded when we show up. It’s lobby is bustling with guests, excited for the performance. I’m not a music person. Not in the slightest. But Percy is, so for the next two hours, I am too. His hand is still clasped in mine as we get our tickets checked and squeeze through the crowd. 

My heart will never not melt at how much of a music nerd he is. I can’t even imagine being as passionate about anything as he is about music. He plays in a big orchestra like this down in Philadelphia. I know he loves it, but it’s also clear how much he misses being a teacher. I’m just glad that his talent is being recognized to its full extent now.

The more stairs we walk up, the quieter the lobby’s noise is in our ears. I’ve never been particularly fond of heights, but I’ve been to this private box before. And, Percy’s here. If I accidentally fall over the edge of the balcony, I’m taking him with me. 

Percy’s hand is sweaty against mine. I can feel it lightly shaking too. When I notice, my head snaps up to his face. The hallway is dark, lit only by a strip of lights along the floor. It’s empty too, except for us. His eyes are fixed forward and he walks with a purpose.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this nervous. You’d think that after being so in love with someone for as long as we have, not terribly long but the point still stands, you would know them completely. It’s wrong. I learn new things about him every day, I think I always will.

I stop suddenly and take his face between my hands. “Percy, look at me.” He does. More reluctantly than I would have hoped, but he does. “What is going on?” I ask, tacking on a nervous laugh at the end.

Percy grabs onto my wrists and gently brings them away from his face. “Nothing, love. I promise. I’m just excited!” A forced smile spreads across his cheeks and I chew my lip.

“If you say so.” I definitely don’t believe him, but he doesn’t seem to be in a talking mood. “C’mon, let’s go,” I say, intertwining our fingers and starting back toward the box. His hand is shaking less than before, but it hasn’t stopped completely.

When we finally make it to our box, Percy steps behind me and pulls open the curtain. My breath catches in my throat when I realize that this is  _ our  _ box. As in, the exact box we sat in on our first date. I turn around in Percy’s arms just in time for him to smirk and push me through the curtain, shutting it behind him. 

Once it’s shut, he wraps his arms around me and kisses me so hard I bend backwards. Surging back up with the same intensity, I tangle my fingers in his neatly done hair and kiss him back. We do that familiar dance for a while before breaking apart to breathe and rest our foreheads together.

“You remembered!” I laugh. I press our lips together, then laugh again. “How did you remember?”

He takes my face in his hands and just smiles for a second. “It’s important to me. Also, I may have kept the old ticket stub in my wallet,” he finishes, a shit-eating grin pasted on his lips.

“No  _ way! _ ” I exclaim, reaching down to dig around in his jacket pocket for the wallet. Percy shoots back like a bullet, his hand pressed hard over the pocket. We stare at each other for a moment, but he clears his throat and pulls out the wallet.

Seemingly having recovered from just a second ago, he walks over like nothing, stands behind me, and pops open the wallet. There’s some money folded into a pocket and a photo of us in a clear sleeve, but my eyes catch on a folded up piece of cardstock paper sticking out of the top.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, slowly pulling out the ticket. Percy lays his chin on my shoulder as I unfold it, turning it ever so slightly to kiss lightly down my neck. My hand flies to my mouth when I see that yes, he actually did keep it. It meant that much to him.  _ I  _ mean that much to him.

“See? Yes way,” he says, and I can  _ hear  _ the smile on his face. I twist around so that we’re nose to nose and get a chance to see the grin as well. Without any sort of warning, I yank him down by the neck to slam our lips together. There is far too much teeth and it’s messy, but I don’t care. What I do care about is that he loves me and I love him, which is always an excellent distraction.

===

The show from that point goes absolutely swimmingly. The orchestra sounds beautiful, I have to admit. Being back here reminds me of myself from two November’s ago. Percy and I wasted  _ so much  _ time hating each other. Maybe if we had stopped, even just for a moment, we would have seen in each other what we do now. 

I was such an uptight, stupid,  _ asshole _ . Going out, getting drunk all the time, hooking up with random strangers. The pressure from the threat of my father looming over me threatened to crack me like fine china. Being with Percy didn’t cure all of that. But he gave me a  _ reason _ to cure it. 

He didn’t fix it.  _ I  _ did.

I smile to myself at the thought, moving my hand over his armrest to set it over his. No hesitation whatsoever, he twines our fingers together. My eyes move from our hands up to his face. 

Sometimes, I wonder if he’s somehow magically gotten younger. His eyes don’t droop as much as they did when we first met. Everything about him radiates youth and happiness. Maybe that’s just my rose colored glasses, but I’m not sure. 

Percy notices my staring and swallows deeply. I watch as his smile sobers, flattening out into a line. His grip on my hand tightens. “I,” he swallows again, “have something to tell you.”

To mask my own nervousness, I look down at the orchestra below us. Percy lets go of my hand, and my heart drops even lower.  _ Say something! Come on!,  _ my brain screams.

I let out a laugh just as the music begins to swell. “What? Are you pregnant or something?” I joke. When I receive no response, I finally look over to him. 

Over to where he kneels on one knee, a ring box open in his hands.

_ Holy shit. _

Percy chews his bottom lip while my eyes continue to bug out of my skull. Am I dreaming? I wouldn’t be surprised, what with how beautiful he looks and how the music drifts between us, adding to the already dreamy atmosphere.

Percy takes a deep breath, then looks straight into my eyes. “Monty, you were a first for me in a lot of things. Some of which you already know. One that you don’t, is that you were the first person who has ever made me feel like _me_. No hiding, no masking any of it. You let me be myself, and I have the honor of experiencing _you_. You, with your crazy fashion sense,” he laughs, and I join in wetly behind the hand clasped over my mouth. “And all of your stupid jokes, and how overly dramatic you are about everything. But I love it all. You are an _experience_. The best one I’ve ever been lucky enough to be in the front row for. So,” Percy shakily holds out the ring further, “Will you marry me?” 

It takes me a second to respond. My eyes are full of tears. Happy, I promise. I forget how to speak. It feels like my heart explodes into stardust, which spreads through the rest of my body until the only thing I can say is:

“Yes! Oh my god, yes!”

Percy throws the ring box down haphazardly onto his empty chair and vaults himself into me. I slam our lips together once again, but we don’t last long before breaking away to smile or laugh. Every time we break apart, we surge back in even stronger. 

One of the times our foreheads are pressed together, I say, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” repetitively, like a prayer. He joins in, and we stand there like madmen, repeating the same thing over and over and over and over until we can’t stand to be apart any longer. 

“Wait!” Percy interrupts after another few seconds, pulling away from me and bending down. He picks up the ring box from the chair and opens it with shaky hands. 

The ring itself is absolutely  _ beautiful _ . More than beautiful, I can’t even think of a way to describe it. The crystals shimmer like the sun in the golden light. There are three white diamonds in a row across the top of the band. The band itself is adorned with smaller orange crystals making weaving patterns all around. 

“Oh my god, it’s  _ gorgeous _ !” I cry, wiping the newest wave of tears off my face. Any other time, I would be embarrassed by how much of a fool I definitely look and sound like, but that’s not on my radar right now. I can’t even feel my fingertips anymore, they shake so much.

“You deserve it,” Percy whispers wetly, also crying. He slides the ring onto my finger and holds my hand flat over his so that I can admire it even better. 

My smile becomes so big that I can’t even hold back my laughs anymore. The orchestra finishes their performance, but the only thing I hear is the way my laugh intertwines with Percy’s. 

I sober up enough to ask, “What are the-“ I point to the orange crystals, “Those, what are they?” I stutter.

“Topaz. November’s stone,” he says.

It takes me a second to understand him. A second well spent gazing into his big, gorgeous brown eyes. When it clicks, my smile grows even larger, and I can tell that my eyes light up. “Because that’s when we got together. Oh my god, I love you.”

He snorts. “I’d hope so.”

===

Felicity instructed us to show up to her house no later than six in the evening. I’m aware that she wants me to believe this is just because she likes having rules and knowing what to expect, but I know my sister. She doesn’t want me to be late because she hasn’t seen me in a year, and though she won’t admit it, she missed me. I’ve missed her too. It’s weird not having a free medical professional at your disposal whenever you think you broke your limbs or Percy accidentally slices his finger open on a chef’s knife. Long story.

I wish this Percy and I could have come up to visit earlier than this. But between Felicity starting school again, our new jobs, and coordinating a good time with everyone else, it just couldn’t be arranged until today.

My left hand is warm in Percy’s, a contrast to the December chill of the rest of my body. We actually end up at Felicity’s doorstep at five forty-five, and even though it wouldn’t have happened without Percy, it’s still something to hold over her head. 

“Are you ready?” I ask. Percy has a stupidly wide grin on his face as he looks straight ahead to the door. I squeeze his hand to get his attention and he squeezes back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he grins, ringing the doorbell once. 

We talked about this last night. How we were going to tell them about the engagement. After little to no debate, we came to the conclusion that they (Sinjon) will probably figure it out immediately anyway, so there isn’t a need to make a big speech.

I’m sure he’s as nervous as I am. I mean, we haven’t been together for  _ years _ or anything. A lot of people could think it’s all happening too soon. To that we say, fuck it. If we’re in love, and we’re ready, who cares  _ when  _ we take the next step? 

All the worrying is probably worthless anyway. These are my friends. They’ve supported me through far more than this. 

The door swings open, but instead of Felicity standing in it, it’s Jeanne. The second our eyes lock, she laughs and throws herself forward into my arms. 

Percy stands back, as to not be knocked off the steps when I lift her up in a hug. I can’t even begin to put into words how much I’ve missed her in particular. Since the move, it’s sort of just been me and Percy against the world. For years before that, that had been me and Jeanne. I’m especially thankful for all of her help after Percy and I fell out last year, now that we’re stronger than ever.

Jeanne continues to laugh even after I put her down. I know I’m smiling like a fool too. “Oh my  _ stars _ ! Monty, it’s been so long! Come in, come in!” she says, moving out of the way for Percy and I to enter the house. Once I’m through the doorway, she stops Percy to give him a hug too. Jeanne is a fair bit shorter than him, so he leans down to rest his cheek on top of her head.

Jeanne shuts the door behind us once we’re both in the house. It looks like we (once again) are the last ones to arrive. The TV is quietly playing the new year’s celebration from Times Square for the living room. 

From the couch, Sinjon and James turn around synchronously when Percy and I are taking off our shoes. Sinjon grins, big and mischievous when I wave at them. James politely waves back, but Sinjon just folds his hand over the back of the couch and drops his chin onto them. 

“Long time no see, Montague!” he teases, and Percy laughs behind me. It’s obvious that he’s amused by the use of my last name, and at the same time trying not to share our little secret. 

“Well I could say the same to you, Mr. Westfall,” I reply, walking further into the living room with Percy on my heels. He breaks off from behind me to greet Sim, who’s playing UNO with Johanna, so I trail off into the kitchen to say hello to Felicity. 

She’s leaning against the counter on her phone when I enter. I clear my throat once to get her attention, and when she looks over, I grin at the smile on her face. 

“How have you been?” she asks, setting her phone down on the counter. 

Not as enthusiastic as I would have hoped, but at least it’s something. You take what you can get with my sister. 

Not thinking, I raise my left hand to make a so-so gesture. When I do, her eyes drop down and lock on my ring finger.  _ Oh hell. _

“Monty, what is that?” she yells, shooting over to grab my hand and bring it closer to her face.

At the commotion, Sim stalks into the room, looking somewhat bored. I believe that after all the years she’s spent being friends with my sister, she’s been conditioned to the typical Montague dramatics. My head snaps over to her, but I can’t say anything before Felicity lifts my hand and shoves it in Sim’s face. 

Her jaw drops open, and she glances up at me, then back to the ring. “Holy shit! He actually did it!” Sim swings out of the kitchen and yells, “Johanna! You owe me twenty bucks!” 

With that, everyone else joins us in the kitchen to swarm around me. One by one, each of them notices what everyone else is fawning over, and then screeches to a halt. Time seems to stop once they’re all before me, jaws on the floor with eyes the size of dinner plates.

“ _ Please  _ tell me that’s what I think it is,” Jeanne whispers, accent thick. The way everyone looks up at me in unison is hilarious, like they’re a pack of hungry dogs and I’m holding a bag of treats over their heads.

I open my mouth to say something, but from behind all of them, Percy interrupts by saying, “Yes, it’s true,” with a gorgeous smile. I melt into his eyes and lift my hand to show off the ring further. I hear a couple of gasps and comments of disbelief, but they are muffled next to the chorus of angels singing as I gaze at Percy.

Noticing the smile, and more significantly, my reaction to it, Johanna awes. “I’m so happy for you two!” She turns, and with a rare glint of fondness for me, gingerly picks up my hand further to examine the ring. “ _ Wow _ , Percy, this is marvelous!”

Percy weaves through them to stand behind my back and set his chin on my shoulder. I smirk, leaning back into him as his arms wrap around my waist, and make a show of fully extending my arm and twinkling my fingers.

“See? You give him the slightest bit of attention and he runs with it,” Sinjon jokes. I watch as James pinches the skin on his elbow, making Sinjon let out a yelp.

I twirl a piece of hair with my finger. “As if you wouldn’t do the same damn thing.”

Sinjon sputters, carefully avoiding James’s eyes. Ouch.

After that, everyone breaks apart, going back to their respective places in the living room. Before I even know it, it’s nearing midnight. Percy pulls himself away from me, with much trouble, to go to the bathroom. I take a sip of my drink, and when I lower the cup, Sinjon’s sitting in his place. 

“I want to congratulate you on the engagement,” he says, sort of sadly, swirling around grape juice in a wine glass.

I tuck my leg underneath myself and turn to him. “Thank you so much. I don’t know where I’d be without your help.”

He glances up at me. “Oh, yeah- No problem.”

“Hey,” I say. Sinjon huffs, then sets down his glass and turns his full attention to me. “What’s going on?”

“James and I have been together for so long. Even longer than you and Percy. It seems like we’re stagnant, you know? I just-“

I nod, understanding. “You wish he would propose too?”

Sinjon looks down at his lap, shaking his head wistfully. “I sound so jealous. I  _ am  _ really happy for you and Percy.”

“Wanting something yourself doesn’t mean you don’t want others to have that thing. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of jealousy in that department,” I say. 

I feel bad, even though it’s not my fault. Sinjon and James balance each other out so well, and Sinjon is one of my best friends. I want him to be as happy as I am, if that’s even possible. “You’ll get there. I promise you, you will get there.”

Sinjon smiles. “Thanks Monty. You really have changed a lot. You used to be kind of a little bitch,” he jokes, and I know the moment’s over. 

I roll my eyes. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

Just then, Percy walks back into the living room. When he reaches the couch, Sinjon sighs. “Well, that’s my cue.” He turns to Percy. “Congratulations.” 

Percy raises his eyebrows. “Oh, no, if you guys were talking about something you don’t have to-” he starts, but at that point Sinjon’s already gone. 

“Did I do something?” Percy asks, sitting down in his previous spot. I turn my body, leaning my back against his chest. 

“He’s okay. Tonight’s been kind of rough for him,” I muse, playing with a string on my sweater. Percy grabs my hand and laces our fingers together.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he adds. 

I glance over in Sinjon’s direction. James sits on the floor, where Sinjon is using his lap as a pillow. Sinjon is telling a joke, almost whacking James with his wild hand gestures, while James plays with his hair. It’s crazy that Sinjon doesn’t notice the way James looks at him like he hung the moon and the stars. James throws his head back in a laugh, and suddenly it’s Sinjon admiring  _ him.  _ There’s a ring in their future. I know it.

Felicity walks into the living room wearing a holographic party hat, along with Sim and Johanna, who look more amused than ever. Feli looks like a cat wearing clothes, what with how miserable she seems in that ridiculous hat. I resist taking my phone out to snap a picture for fear of getting kicked out before the ball drops. Which is in- a minute. Huh.

“Percy,” I say, thwacking his leg with my arm. “Get up, we’re almost at the new year. Come on!” 

Percy lifts me off his lap and stands. He draws me up from the couch with an outstretched hand. We line up, getting ready for the kiss. He sets his hands on my hips and leans in. 

_ ”3!” _

“Are you ready?” Percy asks.

_ “2!” _

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Darling,” I confirm. A devilish grin blooms on both of our faces.

_ “1!” _

Right as the countdown ends, Percy wraps his arms fully around my waist, dipping me backwards in a giddy kiss. My leg flies into the air and I smile into it. Not a bad start to the new year.

===

Percy and I spent the rest of the week with our friends. I have to say, it was probably the most fun I’ve ever had. Whenever we didn’t have plans, Percy and I set out into the city to explore. I learned a few things. 1, I don’t know how to ice skate. 2, Neither does Percy. 3, if both you and your partner are clueless when it comes to ice skating, don’t even try it. It will only end in pain.

This morning, Percy woke me up far earlier than needed. Our flight is at noon, yet instead of letting me sleep, he had me up and running at eight. Not so much up and running, seeing that while he packed all of our things, I laid in bed complaining. His reasoning was something about needing to get to the airport extra early to make sure we don’t miss our plane. I told him that four hours was a little much, but he didn’t listen.

We’re  _ finally  _ on our way to the airport now. It’s sunny out, but still fucking freezing. It’s ten-thirty in the morning and I’m already completely drained. Swear to god, the second I get back to our bed at home I’m going to pass out and drag Percy down with me. This is his fault, after all.

“Monty,” Percy nudges, squeezing my hand from where he holds it over the center console. My engagement ring ( _ my engagement ring! _ ) presses into my finger as he does so. 

“Hm?” He’s looking out the passenger seat window. I absentmindedly follow his eyes, and my breath catches in my throat when I notice what he’s looking at.

He’s gone off the route to the airport, having brought us back to our old apartment. We’re back where everything started. Back where we shared our first kiss, first  _ I love you _ , first time. It’s like saying goodbye. Letting go of that part of our story just as we’re about to move on to the next. 

“You ready to go home?” Percy asks gently.

I take one last look at our beginning, then back to Percy. “Yeah, I am.”

And we drive away.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed it :’) 
> 
> see ya later !!

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all !! i hope you liked it !! please leave a comment and kudos <3
> 
> see u later !!


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